


Everybody Leaves

by MrBaratheon97



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02, Digimon Adventure tri.
Genre: Banana Milkshakes, Bipolar Disorder, British English, Damaged Takeru, Divorce, Dr Kido, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, FanFiction.Net, Hobbies, Insanity, Mental Health Issues, Nightmares, No digimon, Photography, Present Tense, Psychological Trauma, Psychology, Sarcasm, Sarcastic Hikari, Sarcastic Takeru, Sex, Skewed Morals, Song recommendations, Takeru - Freeform, University, Weed, Witty Banter, digimon - Freeform, mental breakdowns, oneshots, prose, takari - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 00:10:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 25,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12544408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrBaratheon97/pseuds/MrBaratheon97
Summary: Everybody Leaves.And yet, for some fucking reason, she's still here...Re-post from my account on FanFiction.net.





	1. Chapter 1

'Do you fucking mind?'

Hikari throws him a dirty glare over her shoulder, and says ' _What?_ '

'You're in my way.'

Takeru knows he's being a cunt. But, then again, he's high and he really doesn't care.

Hikari hates him, he's sure of it. He doesn't know why she still bothers. He's been pushing her away for ages, but still she persists. She stops picking up dishes from the coffee table, and slams them down with a harsh clatter that Takeru barely even registers.

'You know what? I  _do_  fucking mind.' She says, folding her arms.

Takeru sniggers, flinging the remote control onto the seat beside him. 'If you're going to have a bitch fit, can you at least move a step to the left -?'

'You're a little shit, you know that? And you stink.'

Hikari picks up the plates again, huffing as she exits to the kitchen.

Watching her leave, Takeru hollers after her, 'Love you too!'

Exasperated, she doesn't bother to reply.

Takeru does love her. He does. It may not seem like it, but he does. He doesn't like watching her leave. Secretly, he thinks she knows it. She knows that he's testing her – trying to push her away so he can watch her make the conscious decision to stick around. He loves that she stays. He knows she's the best he'll ever have. She's the only one he's ever needed.

He loves that she looks after him. Makes sure he eats, nags him to work… holds him when he's upset. When he can't get out of bed, she'll understand. She knows him better than anyone else.

Playing with the cuffs of his jacket, Takeru wonders why he doesn't listen to her more often. Why he doesn't treat her like she deserves. He knows he doesn't deserve her. He knows that she'd probably love to see that back of him. It doesn't explain why she's still here, but Takeru doesn't want to be unable to trust his own thoughts, so he continues to act on them anyway. He doesn't make sense to himself sometimes, and it's illogical to not care, but Takeru manages it anyway.

Hikari walks back in, a covered glass of water and a couple of his anticonvulsants in her hand. 'I'm putting these on the bedside table for tomorrow, before you forget and blame it on me. Take them or don't take them, see if I care.'

His voice oddly softer, he affirms, 'You care.'

Challengingly, she questions, 'Should I?'

He smiles. She can't help but remember all the other times he's smiled at her with a lost look behind his eyes that doesn't match the grin plastered across his face. And yet, it always catches her. She can't help it. He's insufferable, but Hikari also knows that he's sweet, and charming, and protective, and just damaged –

'You'd have gone already if you didn't. Don't think I'm not waiting for the day you leave me.'

She shakes her head, and doesn't justify his concerns with any response. There's only so many times she can reassure him before accepting that his fear of her deserting him was delusional, and that there's simply no way to explain it away.

Watching her go into his room, his smile fades into a grimly satisfied mien. He knew she'd leave. It doesn't matter that he sees her all the time, or that she spends more time with him than anyone else in existence. She'll leave.

Everyone leaves him.

Alright, so Hikari's stuck around longer than most. It doesn't mean she won't disappear one day and never come back. When she goes alone to see her family, he worries that she'll never come back to him. If he had a family like that, he wouldn't come back to a life like this either. He'd understand, and yet he'd never be able to forgive her. Luckily, she hasn't gone through with it. Not yet, anyway.

'Thanks for dinner, babe.'

From his own room, she replies, 'What d'you mean?  _You paid_.'

She comes back into the living area, and makes an act of taking cash out of his faded-oxblood wallet and shoving it into her back-pocket.

'You're a minx, you know that?'

She shrugs disinterestedly and sits down beside him, allowing him to pull her a bit closer as she drops his wallet onto the table. He still smells lightly of weed, and she grimaces.

'Can you at least put that coat to wash or something? You reek. You're inside anyway, you don't need a coat on.'

He laughs, and slides closer to her. 'But it smells so...  _fresh,_  and earthy even.'

Takeru's a bit of a troll, but it was one of the things about him that Hikari found so engaging. He kept her on her toes. Whipping the camo-patterned mac off, he throws it in the general direction of the coat-hook and pulls Hikari over by her waist. She gasps, but allows it and settles in his grasp.

'How's 'bout now?'

She considers the air with a dramatic pause, before relaxing against him again.

'Better.'

He's content to just enjoy his high like this; watching some random movie with Hikari, cuddling his issues away. When he smoked, his manic stages were insane. Takeru thinks it's great, that a simple plant can provide so much relief. Hikari isn't so agreeable, but after many debates they've agreed to disagree. He'd forced her on the issue, hoping he'd be able to prove that she'd leave, and yet she had resisted  _and_  she had stayed.

She rests her head on his shoulder, like she knows he likes. He likes to know she's still there. It's like; as soon as she's out of sight he can't help but obsess over where she is. He doesn't understand why it bothers him so much. He knows that things are different now, but that doesn't automatically fix his head. It's illogical, but his compulsions are his. He might as well own them, since he can't control them. Hikari understands that, and complies anyway.

Takeru recognises the movie on the television; it's one he'd taken her to see in the cinema, on one of their early dates. Before he'd really changed, or been diagnosed. They'd shared an awkward kiss, and he'd walked her home. Her mother had invited him in briefly, but he'd politely declined before exchanging goodbyes.

Her family didn't like him anymore. He was sure of that too. He hadn't seen them in a while, but he was sure Hikari had told them enough. They were probably already wary of him; they knew more about what kind of a family he came from than he did himself. They'd been close enough with his parents to be disappointed by their split, Takeru was sure.

His parents left each other. His brother had left him. Hikari had basically left her own parents for the moment, and she was going to leave him eventually.

'What're you thinking?'

Despite him being such a cunt to her, she still cares. Takeru thinks she's faking, but he'll give her the benefit of the doubt – innocent until proven guilty, right?

'Just… I'm just trying to forget. Don't want my thoughts to, er, kill my buzz.'

'Right…'

She doesn't really know what to say to him sometimes. He's told her enough times that her mere presence is enough sometimes. Sometimes, he doesn't even need her attention – she just has to be there. He knows its inconvenient for her, sometimes, but he also knows that she'll never mind. Of course, that is until it bothers her so much that she leaves forever.

Cuddling him closer, she says quickly, 'You know I'm not going anywhere, right?'

He shrugs, jogging her lightly. He knows it, but he doesn't truly believe it. One of her hands reaches to brush his hair, to reassure him.

'Because I'm not going anywhere.'

He loves her for trying to reassure him so much. No one else puts that kind of effort with him.

'It's stupid,' says Hikari, rambling, 'that you think I put up with all of this, even when I'm planning on leaving. As if! I'm not that stupid. I stick around more for you than for me.'

He laughs, and eventually so does she. He really does love her. She's almost as crazy as he is.


	2. Chapter 2

'What d'you think, Takeru?'

Takeru considers the print on the canvas; he thinks it's really good, a deeply-considerate reflection of the landscape that they call their home. The black-and-white filter is well-used, and he's proud that Hikari can take such monumental shots with her camera alone.

'It looks crap.'

He frowns. He doesn't want to say that – if anything, he wants to tell her how proud he is that she continues her passion, and how good she's gotten despite being so busy with other things. But, he's in a shitty mood and he needs to bring someone down with him.

Hikari scowls. She challenges, 'What's 'crap' about it, then?'

Takeru scowls back, unconsciously fidgeting under her glare. What can he say? He doesn't have a particular reason for finding the photograph so unappealing. It speaks to him – he of all people would be able to understand the bleak city view, this rawness of the city that Hikari had managed to illustrate. And yet, he really needs for her to just get it out of his sight.

He says disinterestedly, 'Nothing particular... I've just seen better ones.'

'Oh, ok. Fine. That's cool.'

She knows. Hikari knows something… Takeru doesn't know what she knows, but she clearly knows something. He can practically hear the gears grinding in her head, formulating a plan to leave him. Takeru didn't think anyone else would ever take his sheer rudeness with as much coolness and indifference as Hikari.

She's had the most practice, though.

Hikari takes the canvas off of her easel, and goes into her bedroom to put it away with her others. She has a good collection of them now. Takeru can't remember the last time he saw a picture of hers that he could bring himself to compliment out loud. It wasn't easy for him to admit how much she spoke to him through her art.

Maybe he would tell her. Just as she's about to leave him, as the door closes behind her he'll whisper some quiet praise, and she'll come back. The small glimmer of hope that his recognition would provide would keep her rooted to him.

She comes back into the main area of her flat, good mood renewed. She only recently moved in, so the flat's pretty bare. Takeru refuses to help her unpack, so there are still big boxes about, and the furniture's either still in pieces on the floor or non-existent.

Takeru wonders what method she's imagining killing him with this time, that satisfies her so. He's sure that's the only way she stays as sane as she seems to be.

Takeru has a theory; everyone's a little insane. There's no right mind about anything. There's no meaning to anything. Life's a game of time. Can he spend it with her, or not? Does he dominate her thoughts, or not? Does she love him, or not? Can she even…?

Takeru's face has settled to a neutral, blank look, but in his head he's laughing. No one could really love him – it's laughable to even think that there's a glimmer of hope of someone loving him. His parents don't. His older brother doesn't. Hikari seems to, for the time being, but he knows that her façade will slip eventually.

'Takeru, do you want to talk about it?'

Takeru blinks. He didn't even realise he'd spaced out. Unclenching his fist, he shakes his head in the negative.

'Takeru… you have to use your words.'

His blank, startled mien drops into a glower. 'You mother me too much.'

'It's good practice for class.'

Hikari laughs at her own joke and it's beautifully-contagious enough that Takeru smiles, unable to hold his contempt.

He does love her. He does. He doesn't care if he forgets it sometimes, but there are moments when he forgets that everything comes to a shitty end eventually and he can really enjoy staring at the prettiest picture that he's ever seen in his life. Just watching her do nothing, she makes a lovely picture. He hates that she keeps trying to make new ones when he can already see perfection.

'I'm going to make myself some coffee, d'you want some?'

Takeru shrugs, and dismisses, 'You know I'm not supposed to drink caffeine right now, but whatever, that's fine, if you  _want to kill me_ -'

'It's de-caff.'

'I… right. Ok. Sure.'

Sometimes, Takeru lets her win. If he was a complete cunt all the time, she wouldn't love him anymore. He can accept her not liking him, but they were supposed to love each other forever. They wouldn't turn out like his parents.

Watching her go into the kitchen, eyeing her back as she goes, Takeru can't help himself. His shoulders tense up and he gets that feeling in his bones, telling him that she's gone. That she's finally left him. At first his legs don't even move. He's shocked that he hasn't started hyperventilating; the compulsion to check she's still with him is intense.

But his therapy kicks in. He knows that it's physically impossible for her to have left the apartment. Firstly, Hikari went into the kitchen. Takeru can see the front door, and he knows that she didn't go through it. She'd stowed her latest piece of art in her room – she wouldn't have bothered if she wasn't going to stay here.

The sound of Hikari's mobile startles him. It always has. She compares him to Meeko if she sees him jump. The ringing doesn't blare for long, which is both relieving and aggravating. Whose phone call is so interesting, that Hikari picks up that fast?

Takeru thinks he's right to watch her – all the shit he doesn't understand happens when he's not around.

Resolving to find out, Takeru rushes into Hikari's kitchen where-

'…Yeah, no, he's doing a lot better, though you can always come and see for yourself.'

Takeru goes to say something, but Hikari shakes her head and he shuts up. He knows when to behave. He's just glad that she's still here.

'Sure, I guess. I just think-'

Takeru thinks he knows who she's talking to. He hopes that he's wrong.

'Well you could actually make an effort for a change? That'd be a good fucking start. No, don't try to justify- '

Fuck, Hikari's hot when she's pissed. He loves that she's grown from a meek, delicate flower into a fiery, confident, defensive goddess. And she's all his. He'd never say that he appreciates her, to save his own pride, but he does.

Yeah, he also loves it when she swears.

'Look, you know what? Tell him yourself. Yeah- Yes, in fact, he's right here.'

Coming off the phone, she slides it across the counter and Takeru instinctively catches it. She sighs tiredly, like arguing exhausts her – he knows that it doesn't; they argue a shit tonne.

Pouring their coffees into Winnie-the-Pooh and Tigger mugs (hers and his respectively), she says, 'Talk to your brother.'

Takeru puts the phone to his head, and starts easy.

'Hello, Onii-san. How've you been? Good?'

'I'm doing al-'

'Good for you, asshole! Like I really care how you are. Why you even bother calling here is a fucking mystery. When I need you the fucking most you all but disappeared-'

'Hey! I'm coming back soon. If you'd let me speak I'd be able to tell you.'

Takeru watches Hikari's sexy smirk curiously. Maybe she likes when he gets fiery and pissed too. He has to admit, it feels better being angry at someone else together than being angry between themselves.

Her grins slips away when she realises Takeru's actually going to consider what Yamato has to say.

'Tour's over, finished now. Band's taking a break. Everyone's got some shit going on back home that they've got to deal with –'

'Oh, so I'm just shit to you now?'

Frustrated, Yamato barks, 'Takeru let me finish! You  _know_  that's not what I meant.'

His tone is cowing, and Takeru goads, 'Ok, damn, calm down.'

Yamato continues, ' _So_ , I'll be back for at least a year, maybe even two. I can buy a nicer place; we'll get out of the city, set you up with a good routine-'

Takeru doesn't trust him. Not anymore. Hikari clearly didn't either, or she wouldn't have chucked Takeru the phone. Hikari's too nice to outright hang up - she wouldn't have passed it on unless she was really afraid of doing something that she'd regret. The ideas Yamato has are vague and poorly-thought-out and they sound so stupid Takeru has to wonder how long Yamato's had his head up in the clouds.

'I like my place. I like the city. I already have a routine, and here I have Hikari. I won't leave her.'

Touched by his words, Hikari blushes. He'll have to remember to piss her off again later.

Yamato sounds unrelenting as he continues unperturbed, 'We can talk about it more when I get back-'

'You're insane.  _Fuck you_.'

Takeru ends the call, not being as reserved as Hikari, and shares one look with her before they both burst out in laughter. Sipping his shitty de-caff coffee, he can't help but think that Yamato's almost as insane as they are.


	3. Chapter 3

'So… this is nice.'

Takeru smirks. Hikari can't even look at him – she either really wants to laugh, or she wants to punch something, or she wants the ground to swallow her up whole. Yamato, cradling his wine glass, looks equally uneasy.

Takeru's having a fucking whale of a time.

Opportunities to watch everyone else be uncomfortable for a change were rare, but here Takeru was. Hikari really didn't want to interact with Yamato – she was probably afraid that she's say something so overtly offending, or so savage that their relationship becomes irreparable. Yamato just doesn't want to get a butt-kicking.

Taking another mouthful of Hikari's yummy pasta, he says, 'I mean, it'd be nicer if you two maybe, hmm, I don't know…  _actually tried talking_ -'

Hikari scolds, 'Takeru, don't talk with your mouth full.'

Takeru, for once, feels so full of mirth. They literally just sat down to eat, so no one's going anywhere. Hikari's gripping her cutlery so tightly, Takeru thinks they'll break.

Yamato, the guest, ever the bloody diplomat, tries, 'This is delicious, Hikari-chan.'

'Isn't it? It's her speciality. The sauce makes it.' Takeru compliments, smiling.

'It came out of a jar, Takeru.'

Hikari really isn't putting up with any of Takeru's shit. Yamato is clearly trying not to piss her off, but considering that he's already on her shit-list; Takeru doesn't know why he's even bothering. She's isn't going to warm up to him over one dinner.

On the downside, Takeru doesn't think he'll be getting any tonight.

He can handle that. It's ok, there'll be other times. At least, there will be until she leaves him. But until that time, he's content to watch as Hikari downs her wine, and refills her glass.

'Should you really be -?'

'Takeru,  _not now_ , please.'

'It'll be bad for the baby!'

Commotion. Yamato spays his setting with wine, having literally brought his glass to his lips at that very moment. Hikari drops the bottle of wine, spilling it on the table before the bottle itself rolls of the table and shatters on the floor in a spray of dark green shrapnel.

'You're pregnant?!'

Takeru's guffaws seem to fly over Yamato's head, but he relaxes when Hikari shouts in heavy protest, 'No! No way! I am  _not_  –'

They both turn away from each other to glare at Takeru. Yamato looks relieved, and still on edge like his heart is still racing from the connotations associated with a Takeru-Hikari pregnancy. Hikari, fed-up, gets up from the table and storms towards her room.

Takeru watches her leave. He knew it. Had he finally pushed her over the edge? He knew she wasn't strong enough. Nobody was. For months, he'd thought he might have finally pushed her too far, some way or another. But this… this felt different.

'Babe, wait-'

Hikari turns on the spot, looking murderous. 'Don't talk to me. I'm going to bed. Sleep on the couch, or go home. See if I care.'

She slams her door, and it seems so final that Takeru's almost lost for words.

Almost.

'Right…'

He turns, a little dazed, and Yamato raises an eyebrow. 'Please tell me you have more tact than that…'

'What?'

'You don't joke about some things, bro. Some girls are more sensitive to getting humiliated –'

'It's fine.' Takeru dismisses, adding, 'We fight all the time. She'll get over it.'

Yamato doesn't seem so sure, but decides that they have more pressing concerns. He enlists Takeru, and together they clean the table (and the glass off of the floor) and wash all the dishes. Takeru would not have bothered if Yamato hadn't been watching him the entire time – Takeru knows that Yamato would use his younger brother's sloth as an argument for moving in together.

That was the last thing Takeru wanted – his older brother and his girlfriend couldn't even have one civilised dinner, they disagreed so strongly on his treatment options. How would they ever live under the same roof? Takeru sure as hell wasn't going anywhere without her.

Drying a tumbler, Yamato reminds, 'Takeru, don't you need to get your meds?'

Takeru nods. He's not against taking his anti-convulsants. Sure, he feels bloated sometimes and sometimes he gets irritable. But they're helping him be a bit more normal. He doesn't worry so much that Hikari's going to leave. He can think more clearly.

Takeru turns to one of the many kitchen cabinets, and extracts his pill-bottle. Hikari usually gives him two. He doesn't really care how many he takes; he doesn't think Yamato even knows what his dosage is. Takeru is responsible enough at least, that he recognises when he's feeling a bit… uplifted. A bit irritable, perhaps. Takeru tips a couple of the capsules into his hand.

'You only need two.' Yamato cautions, handing the dish-cloth on a drawer behind him.

'I fucking know that…'

Takeru puts the rest of his pills back in the bottle, watching as Yamato watches him back. Yamato looks worried, which is weird. Takeru didn't think he ever cared before. Clearly, now, he's noticed what Takeru has to go through.

As he downs his dose, Yamato says, 'Look, about the move and stuff-'

'Can we not talk about it now?' Takeru cuts in, putting his glass in the sink as opposed to rinsing it. 'Because, 'Kari really isn't in the mood and I want her to be listening when we talk about this stuff, so you can't twist anything I say.'

'Takeru, you're not on bloody trial-'

'Then why do you keep trying to interrogate me? Can you not just leave me alone? I've been doing fine without you for  _this long_ -'

'You  _know_  that wasn't my choice-'

'Oh fuck off; I know you could've stayed. You ran away from me when shit got tough. Don't think it never bothered me that you just up and disappeared.'

Within an hour, Takeru's mood has switched. If Yamato doesn't go away, there's going to be a fight. And though he'd never admit it, Takeru likes Hikari's apartment and doesn't want to wreck it. He only likes pissing her off when she's amicable to start.

'Takeru, hear me out-'

'We've heard enough from you. Go home.'

'Don't be like this.  _I just want what's best for you_ -'

Takeru slams his hand down on the worktop, and everything shakes.

'Get out.'

Yamato leaves slowly, taking ages to grab his things and to finally make his way out of the building. Takeru, for once, finds watching someone leave him refreshing; its oddly comforting, to know that Yamato is going because of something he's said. Takeru hadn't ever considered that he might actually have a say in his life, or have such...  _power_. Especially now… He trusted Hikari enough to make many of his decisions when shit got serious; he'd dropped out of university for her, and moved in to an apartment of his own that was small, simple, and closer to hers.

Not to be cocky, but Takeru was sure that eventually he'd be moving in here, with Hikari, if and when he stopped smoking and started taking his shit seriously. Fixing his language would be a good start, too…

There's a shuffle somewhere in the apartment, and Takeru remembers that Hikari is around somewhere. He needs to see her – he's not really sure whether she's leaving him, or preparing to kick him out, or neither. He'd like to know – he feels entitled to.

'Babe? I got rid of him.'

No reply. Takeru doesn't like when people don't reply to him. He likes the recognition associated with a swift reply.

Walking to her door, and knocking a stiff beat, he repeats, 'I got rid of Yamato.'

He doesn't want to ask her if she's ok, because that would be being considerate, but still, he'd like to know.

Voices. There are voices coming from the other side of the door. Takeru doesn't like the idea of Hikari talking to someone else. Sure, he's a bit of a jealous little cunt, but he loves her. He does. He loves that she concentrates solely on him, and puts him before other things. He loves that she makes him want to do the same for her. He loves that she lets him stick around for longer than he's welcome.

He can hear her through the door. He doesn't want to eavesdrop, but he just does anyway.

'I don't know… Takeru doesn't sound very convinced… Onii-chan, don't, I can deal with Yamato-san… I know, but it just frustrates me that he thinks he can come back out of nowhere, trying to clean a mess that doesn't even exist… Yes, I know, I know. I'll try. You're still coming this weekend, right? Good – I… I need to see you. I'm fine, really, I just really miss you. I know. Oh, don't worry about that, Takeru likes you! Just because he's bipolar doesn't mean that-'

Takeru pulls his face away from her door, deciding that he's heard enough. He smashes his fist against it again, and shouts, 'I got rid of the  _trash_.'

Taichi-san was coming. He'd have to clean up a bit, spruce up his wardrobe maybe. He'd definitely have to get rid of his weed. Taichi was a great guy, but he was pretty by-the-book. Hikari used to be just as bad, but Takeru had slowly brought her around. He daren't try the same on Taichi.

When it comes to his little sister, Taichi is as nuts as Yamato. And, Takeru likes to think that he and Hikari know all about being a bit crazy.


	4. Chapter 4

'And here I was thinking  _I_  was the substance-abuser.'

Takeru watches with a grim wince as Hikari pours herself more wine. He doesn't understand where her nerves are coming from, that they're so strong she's relying on alcohol to calm them. It's not like her. He doesn't know if it's a trick of the light (Hikari's strung up some fairy lights across the ceiling to create what she calls 'mood lighting') but Hikari has some serious shadows underneath her eyes.

'Yeah, well, when you do what I do, it's a surprise that anyone could last this long without a stiff drink.'

Takeru smirks. 'Wine'll only hit you later, and you'll be left to suffer in the meantime. You might as well hit the spirits now. It's still early, mixing couldn't hurt.'

'You know what, you're right.'

He'd only meant that as a joke, but as Hikari reaches for the Jack Daniels and a bottle of soda, he doesn't protest. Hikari gets sexy when she's tipsy. He just doesn't want her to overdo it-

She pours herself a triple, and adds ice before topping the drink off (well, if you could call it that – the tumbler she'd chosen was shallow and filled with whisky) with cola. Takeru recognises that it's a bad sign, when she heeds his advice without question.

On the other side of the room, away from the drinks table, Taichi-san and Onii-san are deep in conversation. Neither of them are drinking tonight – Taichi's opted for one of Hikari's stupid mocktails while Yamato's gone a step further, helping himself to a glass of water. Takeru doesn't quite know what they're trying to prove; if they're trying to look like responsible older siblings, then they're failing – Hikari's already elbows deep in whisky and it hasn't even reached midnight. He doesn't like the resolute look behind her eyes, the one that says 'I'm going to get hammered tonight to forget all my troubles and no one's going to get in my way'.

'Is Onii-chan looking?'

Takeru shakes his head, and Hikari takes a heavy breath. 'Good. I don't want him to see me like this.'

'And what are you going to do when he eventually comes over here to talk to you? He won't talk to Yamato all night, and you can't very well hand that glass to me. I'd cover for you, but...'

Luckily for him, Takeru  _can_  be a righteous ass. He can't drink while he's on his meds, so Hikari'll have to sort herself out. He's just happy he can be a dick about it.

'It's fine. I'll just say I'm holding it for a guest.'

Hikari had been planning this little shindig for a couple of weeks now. It was mostly their course-mates and their old friends that had turned up – they weren't celebrating anything in particular. It was nonetheless a busy affair. Takeru had dutifully helped Hikari make hors d'oeuvres, all the while telling her how shit they both looked and tasted.

Takeru realised that she'd already stopped making sense.

'If you already have a plan, why does it matter if Taichi-san is watching?'

Hikari doesn't know. She scowls and links her arm with his, dismissing, 'It doesn't matter.'

He loves her. He really does. He loves how easy it is to irritate her and piss her off. But he loves how she forgives him every time and keeps coming back. He loves that she can dodge his barbs with such coolness and experience.

'Let's sit.' she suggests.

'A good host doesn't sit around, babe.'

'I think she needs a minute.'

Takeru turns, and is greeted by Mimi; with her silky light-brown hair and sly pout, she looks pretty hot. Takeru knows that he's already involved, but he'll appreciate beauty when he sees it. He'll probably feel shit-all about life in a couple days, so he figures it's best to think positive when he can.

'Mimi-san. You're looking good.'

What? She does. Her make up is light, but complimentary, and her pale pink dress reminds him of that stupid cowboy hat she used to wear when they were kids.

'Well I'm  _supposed_  to be on a date. I see Hikari's….  _enjoying_  herself.'

The two of them eye Hikari, who's let go of Takeru and is sitting on her own on the end of the couch, looking a little forlorn and stressed. She's doing everything but enjoying herself.

Takeru can't help but shrug. 'She's stressed.'

'What over?'

'I'm not sure. Me, apparently.'

He really isn't sure. If she genuinely cared about him, wouldn't she be more careful? Takeru can't picture anyone stressing this much over him. It's weird to think that Hikari wants him to stay so badly, despite everything.

'Well, aren't you lucky? Yamato hasn't even noticed that I'm not even sitting next to him anymore.' Mimi says, her faux-sulky tone easy to dismiss.

Takeru laughs. Mimi's funny.

Takeru banters, 'I don't know about 'lucky'. If  _little madam_  over here starts making dirty pints we're all screwed-'

'You'll just have to watch her then.'

Takeru isn't sure what to say. He was the one that was supposed to be looked after, wasn't he? He wasn't capable of looking after someone else. Wasn't he? Mimi seems to know what he's thinking without him even having to say anything.

'It's ok. I'll give you a hand. It's not like I've got anything else to do.'

They both look around for Yamato, and see that he's still engaged in serious conversation with Taichi. Their glasses are to the side, and neither of them has noticed Hikari drinking herself to oblivion, or Takeru and Mimi watching them.

'I'm pretty sure Onii-san is telling Taichi-san all about his plan to spirit me away to the countryside, never to be seen or heard of again. And I know what you're thinking -'

Takeru considers Mimi's amused look, continuing, 'It's crazy overboard but he's pretty adamant. Hikari doesn't think it'd be good for me. I agree with her. I think he wants Taichi-san to convince his little sister.'

'That does sound like something Yamato-chan would do.'

'Yeah.'

Mimi's hand touches his elbow, and he turns towards her.

'He's very concerned, that's all.'

Takeru begged to differ. Yamato had disappeared from his life just after he'd suffered his biggest breakdown. He had run away from his little brother. Older brothers weren't supposed to get scared. He wasn't supposed to have left.

Mimi adds, 'I think they've spotted Hikari.'

Takeru blinks, his thoughts interrupted. Mimi was right – Hikari looks like she's zoned out a bit, oblivious to her surroundings. Luckily, none of the other guests notice her – unluckily, Yamato and Taichi are zoning in.

Takeru scoffs, 'Lightweight.'

Mimi giggles. Takeru likes Mimi.

'Shouldn't we step in at this point?'

'She did this to herself. Plus, if I go anywhere near them I'll get blamed for her actions somehow.'

'Good point. Let's get some food.'

Mimi grabs his wrist and pulls him to the kitchen, and away from Hikari. She's only just drank her whisky, so maybe she'll be coherent enough to evade them on her own. He knows he'll hear all about it in the morning – if she remembers. In the kitchen, there are platters of finger-foods (Takeru had lost the number of times he'd accidentally stabbed himself with a cocktail stick that morning) and small sandwiches and even –

'Ooh! Hikari made cupcakes!'

Takeru doesn't know why Mimi is so surprised to see them – for one, Hikari uses  _her_  recipe. Two – Hikari had called her to ask how to fix the batter once she'd added too much vanilla essence. That had been an especially stressing moment for Takeru, who'd had to bear the brunt of Hikari's panicky mood.

Mimi picks up a cupcake, passing Takeru one and then bumping them together in the air.

'Cheers, Takeru-kun.'

Takeru smiles, highly amused, and toasts, 'Cheers.'

The cake tastes good –  _annoyingly_  so. The blue icing on top isn't too sweet, and the colour stains their tongue - which is always fun. But, there's a weird taste slowly coming through…

'Is this… are these banana-flavoured?'

Blue banana. Only Hikari…

'I guess so, they're really good!'

Takeru isn't sure. Mimi, however, loves them. Complaining about how her diet's going to be ruined, she finishes the first one and quickly grabs another cupcake.

'These actually taste better than my plain ones, I need to get the recipe-'

'Mimi-chan? Thanks for keeping me away from them.'

Takeru knows what she's doing. She's saved him from having to confront Yamato for at least another half an hour. She's given him the gift of peace. He didn't consider that, ironically, he'd left Hikari for once. It was oddly satisfying.

She smirks. 'I haven't done anything. I just didn't stop you from throwing Hikari-chan under the bus.'

 _'_ _Exactly_. Cheers.'

Mimi's crazy, but Takeru's grateful she's his kind of crazy. Well, not exactly his crazy – he's literally mental, but he can appreciate her zany style. From his place by the kitchen island, he can see out into the rest of the apartment where Hikari is being grilled by Yamato and Taichi – their conversation seems heated, and animated, and Takeru's glad to be far away from it. Those three, fighting over him, they're senseless.


	5. Chapter 5

'Do you want  _me_  to leave?'

Hikari's neutral look doesn't even falter. Lowering her book, she looks towards and hers eyes just beg for him to continue. They're in her apartment again, and Takeru should probably go back to his anyway. The plants have probably already died, but still.

'Because, if you want me to go, I will. I totally get it.'

She just shrugs.

That's new. Hikari's hardly ever indifferent. It's not like her to not react, either. Though she's usually hard to get close to, for Takeru, she's his open book. They don't usually hide from each other.

She doesn't hide things from him.

She doesn't even react to his words. Maybe, she hadn't even heard him?

He repeats, 'Just say the words. I promise I won't bother you.'

She turns away from him, and picks up her book again, and goes back to ignoring him. The silent treatment – Takeru wasn't used to that. She's never been so…

Takeru doesn't think he can really call her confrontational at this point; she isn't doing anything. And yet, that's exactly what's started to piss him off.

'Hikari, I'm still waiting.'

'For what?'

Finally.

'For a bloody answer, that's what.' He tells her, throwing himself down on the sofa in a huff.

Her body practically jumps as his weight shifts the sofa. And yet, she's cool and collected.

'I'm  _thinking_.'

Oh of course. She's keeping him on edge. Pushing and pulling at him at the same fucking time. Takeru didn't think his addled head could have conceived something as wretched as the uncertainty he was being faced with at that moment; her lack of answer was both creating doubt and, dare he think it, giving him hope. Hope, that perhaps she'll decide in his favour.

She's tearing him to pieces inside.

He doesn't even know what he wants. A part of him thinks that he should just suck it up, let Yamato spirit him away, and surrender to that dreary fate. The other half wants nothing to do with the move, or his brother. Hikari didn't even know what to think anymore – apparently, their brothers had managed to instil enough doubt in her thoughts of the move that she too wondered whether it mightn't be such a bad idea after all.

Takeru wished he had dissociative identities instead; he was sure that then, some part of him would be able to make a fucking choice. Together, or, at least as it was presently, he didn't think his mind was truly capable of making well-thought decisions.

'Well?'

'That was barely a minute. How am I supposed to decide whether I want to help you or not if you don't let me consider it-?'

'I'm not asking for your help. I'm asking you whether you'd rather I just go away now, before you can get invested and thereby find it harder to leave me.'

Hikari turns the page of her book.

'That's a really stupid question.'

Takeru can only groan at her impertinence.

She's probably right. They have been together for years… since they were kids. They may not have been official, but the attachment was there. Takeru doesn't think she'd find it that hard to move on, is all. He's sure she'd be able to find satisfaction elsewhere.

They're still sitting there, hours later. Hikari had gotten up to go to the bathroom once, and Takeru had trailed her like a puppy, practically scratching at the door when he'd decided that she'd been out of sight for long enough. It was pathetic; he knew it, and she probably thought that too, but still.

He loves her. He really does. He loves her, despite everything. Despite her games, despite his frustrations. Sometimes he can't handle things, and sometimes she makes things harder, but deep in his heart he knows that he'd rather she be around than not.

She's been really quiet today, which bugs him. He wants her to acknowledge him. Or at least just say something that he can respond to. Takeru wonders if now's a good time to goad her – Hikari could get riled up, but he didn't know if he was close to pushing her over the edge. Maybe he wasn't. Takeru didn't know if he was brave enough to take the risk. He was pessimistic usually, but, there had been a time where he was the most optimistic person in everyone's lives and a part of him remembered that.

'You haven't taken any photos recently.'

Hikari finally looks at him with meaning. With emotion, and feeling. She looks genuinely surprised, and also curious. Or is Takeru mistaking her confusion for something more…?

'I didn't realise you'd noticed.'

'So… what's up with that?'

She bites her lip. 'I'm… I think I might give it up.'

And suddenly it's Takeru's turn to be genuinely surprised. Hikari and photography went together like… like him and being an ass. Like Yamato and music. Like Mimi and banana cupcakes, apparently…

' _What?_ '

She looks like she's trying not to shrug, saying, 'It's pretty time-consuming, and I won't have that time once university's over. You know how it is.'

He rolls his eyes. 'Actually, I don't know.'

'Well,' she says, ignoring her faux pas, 'it's pretty sucky. Becoming a teacher is going to take up so much more of my time now.'

And that's when it hits him. She needs more time.

'You're so frustrating, you know that?'

'Excuse me?'

This time, her guard is lowered enough for him to annoy her, and for her to fight back despite her better judgement.

'It makes no sense. I'm clearly the biggest distraction in your life and yet instead of dumping me and moving on with the things that matter, you're giving up on hobbies? That's stupid and we both know it.'

' _We_  don't know anything. Anyway, it's none of your business. My life doesn't revolve around you.'

They both know that on an odd level, it does.

'Fine. I'm dumping you. We're through.'

'Don't be ridiculous.'

She picks up her book again, dismissing him entirely. She sounded so forceful just then, that Takeru doesn't even want to argue with her. She can read him like a book; she knows he doesn't want to leave her, and that their separation would only hurt them both.

Takeru doesn't like that she has problems. Clearly, he's one of them – but it's apparently been decided that there's nothing either of them can do about that, so that's that. He doesn't want her to stop doing things she likes though. There'd be nothing for him to interrupt.

Touching her elbow and pinching her cardigan to pull her attention back to the conversation, he says, 'Photography needs you.'

'I thought you didn't think I was any good at it anyway.'

'So? The good photographers only look good if there are crappier ones to compare them too.'

She laughs. He thinks she's read through him easily enough, and that's good enough for him. She pulls him closer and rests against his arm, her book sliding into her lap as she wraps their limbs together.

'Alright. I won't give it up.'

'So you'll give me up?'

' _Takeru_.'

'It's probably for the best.'

She doesn't understand why he's so fixated on that idea that everyone's going to leave him. She doesn't like how much his rougher childhood experiences have warped his outlook on life. He doesn't think about that. He's already made the assumption that Hikari won't be there forever. He's right, but he's also wrong.

'You're such an idiot.'

' _Hikari_ -'

'But the point is, you're my idiot.'

He kisses her head, running his hand over her silky brown hair before properly settling for the first time that day.

She's absolutely crazy. He loves it.


	6. Chapter 6

'You 'kay?'

Takeru shifts, and Hikari's arm slithers out from underneath his body.

'Sure.'

They're both boiling. The room had gotten hot out of nowhere, and they'd teamed up to kick the duvet off the bed entirely. The clothes that had been strewn on the bottom edge must have gone down with the covers.

Takeru didn't know when he had become the default little spoon. Probably when Hikari had decided that he needed more looking after than she did. To think, once upon a time, he'd been her rock. And yet, he relishes in the comfort. Just feeling her breathing against him, her chest pressing against his back… their legs intertwined, feet prodding at each other's, he can believe that she isn't going anywhere anytime soon. His mind hasn't felt this free from insecurity in a while. It's easy not to think about shitty things when they're together like this, their synchronous breathing the only real noise in the world.

Her skin feels so warm. Takeru sometimes forgets how pleasant it feels to just be with her, completely away from the world. Neither of them can be bothered to open the window. They probably should. Takeru doesn't want to let the world in, at least not just yet. He isn't ready to let go of her. Well, actually, it's her that's holding him.

'That was good.'

Takeru smiles. 'You think so?'

'That was better than it's been for a while.'

'Hmm.'

They're satisfied. Or at least, he's happy that she's managed to establish a semblance of goodness in her life without compromising on him.

She presses a kiss to the back of his head, and says, 'You should get a haircut. Should we get up?'

'Probably…'

Takeru feels a flicker of disappointment in his mind; he doesn't want the moment the end. For once, he felt so numb he couldn't be down about anything. It was like Hikari had drained his negativity away for all that time, and now it was rushing back like it had never left him. It's too familiar.

He isn't smiling anymore.

'I'm going to use the bathroom.'

He gets up quickly, and feels the heat go away as he pulls boxer-shorts on. He knows Hikari's watching him appreciatively – he doesn't understand what she sees in him. He doesn't think that he's much to look at, or much to be happy with. There are a lot of things wrong with him.

He doesn't understand how he can be so normal one minute, and suddenly be washed over with this bleak numbness. Not a manic numbness. A hopeless numbness.

He sits in front of the mirror, on a bath stool. Looking in the mirror, he can only view himself with fear.

It scares him that he doesn't always know what's going on behind those blue eyes. He doesn't always know what fate's got planned for this kid next.

And yet, Takeru really does know.

He turns the taps on, and runs mildly warm water. He washes his hands, and his face, and dries them with his scratchy towel. His place isn't as nice as Hikari's; the bedroom is smaller, the appliances are older, the paling and peeling pink wallpaper more of a nuisance to look at then anything. Leaving the tap running, he picks up his trimmer.

When Hikari finally follows him into the bathroom, she sighs.

'Takeru, you're alright...'

As he roughly runs the trimmer over his head, mowing sporadic trails through his golden locks, tears run down his face. They pitter-patter on the tiled floor. The driving of the trimmer against his skin almost feels deserved, even useful; it's like, he's digging away at his scalp and he can't stop until he gets to the pathetic organ beneath his skull that's making everything shit for everyone he's ever known.

He can barely see what he's doing anymore, so Hikari grabs his wrist, and says, 'Here, let me finish this up.'

He doesn't understand why he feels like he's burning inside.

He cries as Hikari finishes his hair and neatens it up for him. He cries as she plants a soft kiss on his scalp, wondering what she could love about his stupid, stupid self. He cries as she applies a small waterproof plaster above one of his ears where he'd managed to nick himself. She shushes him as she wipes the blood away. She soaps him up as he cries, underneath the shower, letting out small sobs that he hopes are covered up by the pounding of the water.

Takeru isn't crying when they're done in the bathroom. He's dehydrated, and tired. He doesn't want to talk. He doesn't want to think anymore. He doesn't want to exist.

Hikari knows all of this, without even having to ask. She's caught him doing worse. Though she never shows it, he knows she's afraid. He doesn't want to scare her away. Sometimes, he scares her almost as much as he scares himself. Hikari really is his rock. She helps him dress, and stops him from getting back into bed and burrowing away.

He loves her. He really does. Even when he's lost sight of everything, when he can't be there… when he doesn't like what he thinks, she's there to wring it out of him. It's like she can soak up all his badness, and replace it.

He wants to think, 'replace it with pleasantness', but he just can't bring himself to. He struggles to do a lot of basic things when he gets like this.

'How about a milkshake?'

His mouth flickers, almost producing a smile, but his brain won't let him do it. Hikari, regardless, knows what to do. She takes his hand, and drags him to his measly kitchen.

The whole apartment looks wrecked. Takeru remembers how long it's been since either of them had even been there. As they walk around the couch and past the little excuse of a dining table, Takeru loses the resolve to even bother asking whether they even have any food there. He's sure that Hikari's probably beaten him to the punch, but, there's always room for doubt.

She gets out milk, and ice cream, and tells him to wait as she pulls out a blender he didn't even know he had. She bungs everything in, along with a couple of ripe bananas.

They've had this discussion before. She knows full well that he's not exactly an advocate of banana-flavoured foods, but she figured, if he wasn't going to enjoy it anyway, she might as well make something that  _she_  likes. When he'd been in a better mood, he'd kissed her temple and told her that it was fair enough.

She sits him at the table, before bringing two tall glasses that he's never seen before and plonking a zany plastic straw in each, and then pouring the shake over it.

'Say when.'

He doesn't say anything, so she stops pouring of her own volition and pours herself a similar volume before sitting down, across from him.

Her eyes sparkle. Takeru doesn't know why. Did she not see him go berserk a mere hour ago? She hadn't even said anything about his new buzz cut - or the fact that his facial hair had been left untouched. He doesn't understand what she sees in him. Takeru doesn't get her.

And yet, he couldn't be more thankful that she treats him so normally during his shit phases.

He doesn't need to understand her to love her.

For her, he takes a sip of the milkshake. He hopes that maybe, if he drinks it fast enough, it'll freeze his brain for the time being. Hikari, meanwhile, giggles as he goes cross-eyed watching the shake whizz around the stupid straw she'd bought from the party supplier's down the street. It's so...  _wrong_ , for her to be so content, and yet, she is because she knows that his mood isn't his fault. That it won't last. That it isn't him.

The Takeru she knows is just taking a break, she likes to think.

She knows he isn't totally well, but everyone has lapses, don't they?

As she drinks her own shake, moaning in contentment, Takeru can't help but lament that she's in love with him. They're both crazy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Dodie's Intertwined


	7. Chapter 7

_'Takeru?'_

_Had someone said his name? He wasn't sure, hadn't really listened._

_It was as bleak a day as any, a grey overcast that had become as obscuring as the fog in his mind. Takeru had run away from his supposedly comfortable home, and found a little bit of solace in the finality of sitting on the edge of that bridge. He could end it all, all of his fear would go away and he wouldn't have to worry anymore… no one else would ever get to leave him…_

_'Takeru?'_

_He turned, and met Hikari's eyes. He didn't even know how she'd managed to get up there, how he hadn't heard her. Had he been thinking that deeply? To be fair, he didn't even remember exactly how he'd gotten up there himself…_

_'Hikari, I-'_

_'Shh, it's ok. I'm right here.'_

_He took her hand, roughly, and she squeezed his hand back with just as much strength. Their legs dangled over the railing of the bridge. It was really high – he didn't feel that off-balance. It felt easy, sitting there. He could deliberate, and the lack of traffic of any kind was odd; Takeru wondered whether fate was just reminding him of how few people cared._

_And yet, Hikari was there._

_She said carefully, 'You know we have to get back down from here, don't you? I need to you help me get down. I can't reach the floor.'_

_She was so calm, so nonchalant. She spoke as if nothing was wrong. What little wind there was whipped at her hair, and she looked radiant. It wasn't fair that she loved him, when she could love someone else instead._

_It wasn't fair that he loved her too. Too much, he thought._

_Takeru looked behind him, and checked the road. The railing was actually fairly high. The curb was equally low. The water back in front of him was even further down. Waxing, and waning, waving for him to jump down…_

_'Takeru, please help me get down.'_

_Hesitant, he faltered._

_'I c-can't go back.'_

_She tugged his shirt gently back, like his mother had once used to do as she fussed over him, and assured, 'Yes you can. I need you to help me get down. Don't think about anything else. Just help me, first. We'll get to the rest after, ok?'_

_He couldn't just leave her there. She needed his help. And yet, he couldn't stop shaking._

_'I'm scared.'_

_'It's ok to be scared.'_

_'St-Stay with me, please.'_

_'Let's do it together. I'm not going anywhere.'_

_'Right... alright_ _.'_

_'It'll be fine.' she assured._

_Takeru began to turn around towards the pavement and then suddenly there were strong arms constricting his waist; dragging him backwards to the life he wasn't sure he even wanted anymore-_


	8. Chapter 8

' _No!_ '

Takeru shoots forward, gasping and sweating. Beside him, Hikari stirs and quickly sits up.

' _Shit.._. Sorry, didn't mean to wake you-'

'Takeru, what did you see?'

He hadn't seen anything. Nothing  _new_ , anyway.

'Just the same. It's always the same.'

She rubs his shoulders, stifling a yawn. She doesn't want to come across as disinterested, and he knows she cares. He also knows how much sleep she loses when he's like this. He loves her, he does; he hates that he affects her life so much, and how he has her treading on shattered glass all the time. He loves that she knows it's not always his fault.

'What part did you get up to?'

Hikari speaks about his dream like it's a movie or a fantasy novel. Hikari makes a good heroine. Sometimes, he wishes his past was only fictional, because at least then it'd be revisable.

'Woke up just as Onii-san yanks me off the railing and pummels me.'

She sighs, trying not to grimace so openly. She hates that part too, it seems.

'Do you want something to drink? I'll get you some water.'

Takeru shakes his head. He doesn't want to admit it, but he's scared that if she walks through that door and out of sight she won't be coming back.

'I don't need any bloody water.'

Water's the last thing he wants to look at. He's on edge, so she allows his snappy tone and stays put. She even goes as far as to cuddle up to him, pulling him back down so that they're again reclined in bed.

'It always gets worse when he comes.'

Hikari hums sympathetically; she understands all too well the kind of stress Yamato brings Takeru. Hikari had never agreed with how Yamato handled himself that day, and she'd never been able to trust him as much since he'd made sure Takeru had been in hospital. It didn't help that Taichi had tried to reason with her, explaining how he'd have done something similar had the positions been reversed. She had definitely not enjoyed hearing that.

Sometimes, Takeru forgets that Hikari is more stubborn than their brothers could ever hope to be.

'You'll make him go away, once he gets here, right?'

'Takeru… I can't just kick him out. That'll just give him more reason to take you with him-'

'Hikari,' Takeru says with surprising ease, 'you can tell me if you need a break from us, I get it, really-'

She smacks his shoulder, and exclaims, 'Will you shut up already? I'm staying right here, just because I'm letting your brother visit us doesn't mean I hate you. Besides, you're so warm, I don't think I want to sleep anywhere else.'

She purrs, snuggling into his back.

He just stares at the wall, wondering when she'll stop lying to herself.

When he next awakes, Takeru can hear voices outside the bedroom door. One of them is Hikari's, but that only relaxes him slightly. He's still tense, because one of the other voices includes Yamato's. Mimi's dulcet voice is only slightly reassuring at best. He can barely hear what they're saying.

The door opens, and Hikari says softly, 'Takeru?'

He buries himself back in the covers, hoping she'll think he's asleep.

She knows better than that. He feels her weight by his feet as she sits down on the edge of the bed.

'Takeru, I know you're awake. Mimi-san and Yamato-san are here to see you.'

Takeru reluctantly has a peek, and notices that it isn't Hikari who's sat on the edge of the bed, but Mimi.

He clears his throat, and greets dryly, 'Hello.'

Mimi looks mildly concerned. 'Afternoon, Takeru-chan. How're you feeling?'

Takeru doesn't answer her. He's too busy waiting for Yamato to address him.

Yamato takes his time to sit down on the chair facing the bed by the dressing table, probably deciding what to say. As long as he doesn't sniff out his weed stash, Takeru doesn't care how long he takes.

'Your hair, it's…'

So that's what he's decided to go with.

'I got it cut.'

'Right.'

The tense tone in his words tells Takeru that Hikari spoke to him about his latest little episode. He didn't blame her. It was still annoying to know that Yamato had so much power over him.

Mimi says, 'I think it looks good.'

Takeru shrugs. 'Hikari finished mine, maybe if you ask nicely she'll do yours for you too.'

Mimi laughs despite the deadness in Takeru's voice, and says, 'No way. I like my hair too much to see it go. Short hair suits you, though. I'm sure that Hikari-chan finds the buzz-cut-and- beard combo very sexy.'

Takeru is thankful that Mimi's being so good-humoured. He's always liked her. Hikari and Yamato both look equally uncomfortable, so he's satisfied that at least one of them is enjoying themselves.

'He looks fine however he has his hair.' Hikari dismisses, trying to hide her embarrassment.

'I bet.' Mimi agrees coyly.

Takeru yawns, a little dramatically, and twists under the covers so that he's on his side, looking away from his brother.

'Seriously?' Yamato scolds disbelievingly, 'You've been in bed all day. You should get up, shower and eat.'

'Yes, mom.'

Hikari snorts, her guard slipping as she fails miserably at hiding her amusement at Takeru's behaviour. When Yamato glares at her, she glares back. Yamato doesn't go through what she goes through. He leaves before Takeru gets depressed, and scurries back when Takeru's starting to feel better. She knows Takeru'll be fine within two days because he's stared to get snarky again. In bed all day? This? Yamato knows nothing.

'Come on. Get up. Mimi and I wanted to take you out.'

'Go to hell.'

'Let's stay here, then.' Mimi acquiesces quickly, 'Saves money anyway.'

Hikari agrees, 'Yeah, it could be… fun.'

Fun? She's mad. But still, it beats going anywhere…

'I'd rather do that.'

'Fine.' Yamato grumbles, going to open the curtains.

Mimi and Hikari share a smirk, which is odd because Takeru didn't think Mimi had anything against his older brother – they were going out, after all. Or maybe, she was just trying to get into Takeru's good books. Takeru didn't want to conclude anything without all the facts.

The light comes streaming in like a blinding torch, and Takeru groans. He hates Yamato sometimes. This is one of those times.

Next thing Takeru knows, they're all sat in the living room, coffee brewing and dinner ordered. Yeah, Takeru isn't supposed to have caffeine; the coffee's for Hikari. He's going to make sure she drinks a lot of it so she can't use exhaustion as an excuse to leave when things get awkward.

'Dinner wasn't the only reason we came today.' Yamato says, addressing the elephant in the room.

'Well clearly not. You wouldn't have come here unless you had some sort of obligation.' Takeru berates, trying to sound distant.

Yamato only sighs. His one redeeming quality is that he at least understands why Takeru feels the way he does.

'So go on, spit it out.'

Yamato runs a hand through his hair, and seemingly deflates in his seat.

'I've given up. I won't make you move if you don't want to.'

Takeru nods, and meets Hikari's relieved eyes. Here she was, preparing herself mentally for a confrontation between the two brothers.

'Mum, Dad and I are just going on our own-'

Hikari almost chokes on her mouthful of coffee. Takeru, luckily, hadn't picked up his mug yet otherwise he'd have surely dropped it.

' _Mum and Dad?_  Why the fuck are  _they_  moving in together, and with  _you_  no less? Why the hell didn't you tell me sooner-?'

'Because you would've reacted like this.' Yamato says.

'You never told him?' Mimi exclaims, for the first time sincerely annoyed with Yamato.

'When they first started talking again, he was still in the ward. I didn't know it would even come to this-'

'You say it like it's somebody's fault-'

'Hikari, you're not helping-'

'Yamato, you are _such_ an _idiot!_ How can you keep this kind of thing to yourself-?'

'I wanted to tell you guys, really I did! I didn't want to set  _him_  off-'

'You think he's a fucking time bomb? What was he going to do-?'

'I didn't want a repeat of last time.'

Takeru lets Hikari and Yamato bicker. He doesn't care. It doesn't bother him, that they talk like he isn't sitting right there. He's lost the will. That his brother would think he would be ok with this… It hurts a lot.

'Don't worry, I'm not about to jump off a ruddy bridge.'

Takeru says it with such casual darkness; it's difficult for Yamato to retain his composure.

'Don't even joke about that.'

Hikari mutters under her breath, 'You treat us like we're a fucking joke, so why not?'

Takeru waves her down with a light hand, and says, 'I don't care. Whatever. Now I know. It doesn't change anything.'

He sounds like he's deliberated over the information, but in reality he's still in shock. The implications… It means so much that his family are getting back together and yet he's so dead inside it doesn't even stir much hope within him. What's he supposed to do? Rush in with Yamato like his parents had never ruined everything? Like he hadn't been abandoned, waiting for Hikari to pick up his pieces? It isn't right, but he doesn't know what to do. He can at least sound like he does – denying Yamato the satisfaction will minimise the hurt, Takeru thinks.

Surprised by his supposed maturity, Yamato asks, 'You definitely don't want to come? I'm sure they'd be willing to come here to see you-'

The doorbell rings, with perfect timing.

'He'll think about it.' Hikari says, taking over and going to answer the door.

She knows him enough to see when he's shutting down. She knows when to take over. Yamato knows nothing. They may be brothers, and they may get on sometimes, but most times Yamato has no idea what to do. He usually does the wrong thing.

It isn't his fault. In his own way, he's damaged too.

Yamato goes quiet. Takeru really hopes that his older brother is getting in some much-needed self-reflection time.

As Hikari dishes out food, tensely quiet as Mimi tries to force some new conversation, Takeru can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he isn't crazy. Maybe, it's just everyone else. He isn't as sure anymore.


	9. Chapter 9

'Oh for fuck's sake-!'

Takeru hears somebody coming, and tries to stub out his blunt on the metal railing. For whatever reason, presssing it against the peeling paint does nothing to put it out, and it continues to burn. The smell of weed is everywhere. He's definitely fucked.

He knows Hikari might be looking for him, that she doesn't know he's gone off to smoke. She wasn't supposed to find him - she isn't good at looking, anyway. She's become too reliant on her mobile.

For someone so worried, she's not very thorough.

Waving his hands about, he jumps slightly as he hears the balcony door slide open.

Taichi looks almost startled as he catches him. He sees the blunt, and raises an eyebrow. Takeru can't help but shrug sheepishly. They both know he isn't that stupid.

Clearly, Takeru's the stupid one.

'Takeru-kun.' Taichi says, hand out and motioning for the spliff. 'Gimme.'

Takeru frowns, and yet is compelled to hand it over. He isn't sure what Taichi's going to do with him. His face almost unreadable.

Taichi inspects it, turns it to his mouth and says, 'You got a light?'

Takeru mouth falls slightly agape, and he fishes his lighter out of his pocket and passes it to the older man.

'What?' Taichi says, amused, 'Just because my sister isn't cool doesn't mean I-'

'I didn't think you were into it.'

Taichi shrugs, taking a drag. 'You never asked me what I thought about it.'

Takeru nods, surprised and a little impressed. Thinking back, it was probably illogical to be fearful of him in the first place - Taichi was always the most daring, the most competitive... he'd probably had the most exposure to this kind of thing anyway, being part of the school football team.

'To be honest,' he says, pursing his lips, 'I didn't know you smoked either, till Hikari said that it might be what you were off doing. I'm surprised she lets you get away with it.'

Takeru shrugs like Taichi had, and allows him a smile.

'I have my ways.'

Taichi coughs mutedly, trying to hold it back as they pass the joint between each other. Takeru tries not to laugh. It's weird, smoking with Taichi. For one, he had thought that being caught by the man would be a one-way-ticket to hell. Sometimes, he has stupid fears.

'What?' Taichi wheezes, clearing his throat.

'Been a while, huh?'

'... Yeah.'

Secondly, he seems... friendly. He was Yamato's friend first, and his girlfriend's brother; Takeru isn't sure whether Taichi was supposed to be like  _this_ , or more civil and distant. It makes him hesitant - after all, anyone that genuinely liked Yamato should be deserving of his suspicion.

Then again, Mimi seemed to be an exception. Maybe Taichi was one too. It was annoying to Takeru, that he couldn't decide.

'So what's this supposed to do? Does it help curing your...?'

Taichi seems to be making some kind of an effort towards him. Takeru doesn't know why. It's odd but he doesn't hate it. On the other hand, he doesn't have the energy to explain himself properly.

'It just... I don't know. It's supposed to be therapeutic.'

Taichi regards the blunt thoughtfully. 'And?'

' _And?'_

'Is it? Therapeutic, I mean.'

Takeru isn't really sure. It's more of a distraction, a way for him to channel some of his energy when it's in excess. It's also another way to piss Hikari off.

He shrugs. 'It's better than nothing.'

'Hmm, I guess.'

Taichi leans on the balcony, and Takeru relaxes back. His mouth feels like cotton wool and his throat is even burning lightly, but Takeru doesn't care. He's determined to finish this joint - the last of his weed - before he calls it a night. The fresh air is soothing, though. If he goes back inside, he'll feel stuffy and trapped. Out here, he's that bit more free.

'Your brother's only trying to help you, y'know.'

Takeru let's him talk. He's distracted enough that he doesn't care if Taichi wants to lecture him. Hell, for smoking with Takeru, he's earned some time.

'In his own twisted way, he cares.'

The two of them look out over the city; it isn't hard to make out in the dark, and yet, it's so unfamiliar to Takeru. He's never had to go anywhere regularly other than his apartment, Hikari's, and the hospital. He doesn't go out much. He hates going places. Takers hates leaving just as much as he hates others leaving. He's fair, after all.

He hates having to think about stuff that hurts. Sometimes, it's all he can do, but it never gets easier.

'He was wrong to lie to you.'

He doesn't know why he's…  _protecting_  Yamato, but the words fall off his tongue anyway. 'He didn't really lie, though. I mean, he's still a pathetic little-'

'Omitting the truth is just as bad. I know that now.'

There's a brief lapse in his words, before he adds, 'If it's any consolation, your haircut doesn't  _not_  suit you. It's smart, even, now you've trimmed your beard...'

Takeru doesn't reply to Taichi's ramblings. What is there to say? Hikari must have said all that needed to be said, for Taichi to be... apologising? Takeru wasn't sure what they were even doing there. He doesn't understand Tai's tone. Standing in relative silence, taking in the dull ambience of the night; it wasn't a very pregnant moment, and yet, Takeru is sure trust is being exchanged.

It's not unpleasant. Confusing, but not bad.

Eventually Taichi stirs, turning around and leaning backwards against the railing. 'You should come to dinner at my parents' some day. They haven't seen you in a while.'

Takeru can't help but feel wry at the offer. 'I don't know if that's a good idea. I mean, look at me-'

'They like you. They've always liked you, man. Just because you're going through some things-'

'I... I don't want to hurt Hikari. That's all.'

'She'll be hurt when she learns that I asked you and you said no. It was her idea originally, anyway.'

Takeru doesn't feel sure. He liked Taichi and Hikari's parents - still does. But, he knows that he doesn't want to go. It hurts to see them so happy, so happily married and so welcoming of him, a broken kid with a broken history.

He isn't sure how to feel about them, but he knows how he feels about Hikari.

He loves her, he really does. Even though she's a mixed bag of emotions sometimes (she's always undecided as to whether to tell him to chill out or get off his ass), he loves her. He envies her. He loves that she can see that she has everything he doesn't. He loves that she'll share what she has, what he wants, with him. He's willing to go through the pain, for her.

Taking a final pull and looking distantly at the charred roach in his hand, he says, 'I'll think about it.'

Taichi smiles, like Takeru's response was as much of a yes as he'd expected to get anyway. Takeru can't help but feel like he's made a promise, somehow. No fair.

Takeru hasn't seen someone smile at him so genuinely in a while. Hikari does, but he suspects that she behaves that way with him to keep up appearances. Mimi's expressions always seem sly. Yamato doesn't smile at him. Never like this.

Chucking the deadened blunt over the railing, Takeru follows Taichi back inside. No one else is there. There's a barely a sound as Takeru shuts the door behind him.

'Hikari didn't come with you?' he asks, trying not to sound so dependant.

Taichi swings the spare key around his finger as he walks towards the door, answering, 'She was cleaning and stuff, and she was trying to read some reports for her studying, so I thought I'd help her out by grabbing you. She had said she wanted you to be in sight.'

Takeru nods. He won't apologise for making her worry - that's Hikari's problem.

'You wanna grab anything before we go? Change of clothes, maybe?'

'Hikari's got some of my stuff, should be ok.'

'Oh ok, cool...'

If Taichi's awkward about details pertaining to his relationship with Hikari, he doesn't show it. Taichi seems ok with that little tidbit. It's fairly calm. It doesn't have to mean anything if Taichi doesn't want it to. Then again, he's pretty sure Hikari shares everything with her brother.

Taichi takes Takeru in his car. Takeru isn't familiar with the model - hell, he doesn't do cars. It's dark blue, and slim, and sleek. Taichi was probably the first of them to own a car - Yamato had one, and Mimi probably did (though Takeru was sure she much preferred being chauffeured around), and Hikari just couldn't afford one. Takeru could drive, but he hadn't actually taken his test yet.

He'd had to deal with other things. At those other things, they got sidetracked. He'd rectify that eventually.

'Radio?'

The car is warm and in the cold of the evening and it was making Takeru sleepy. He slept enough as it was. He was too toasty to concentrate.

'Takeru-kun?'

Sitting up straight, Takeru finally replies, 'Sorry, blanked out. What d'you say?'

'Don't worry.' replies Tai, not looking at all fazed.

Taichi flicks the radio on, and life continues.

Takeru feels better after showering and changing at Hikari's. Not that he had a choice - Hikari refuses to let him stink up her apartment. He wasn't really stoned - neither was Taichi, who'd had a mediocre couple of pulls at best. Mug of tea in hand, blanket thrown over his shoulder, red eyes... he looks a regular stay-in hipster.

'Have you eaten?' Hikari asks, fussing with the blanket that he doesn't even need. He's not cold - just a little sleepy.

She looks good. Really good. She must have been out earlier - her eyeliner is on point and he can see the faint shine of highlighter that hadn't quite come off when she'd last wiped her face. It was cute. Adorable even. For a washed-up writer, he was really running out of words.

'Yeah.'

'What did you eat?'

He shrugs. He's insufferable like that.

Taichi looks at him apprehensively, and Takeru suddenly remembers who he's with. He'll have to behave, or Taichi won't hang out with him again. Not that he desperately wants Taichi to, but he wouldn't mind it either.

'Pizza and stuff.' he says, rather pathetically.

Hikari frowns, but doesn't say anything about that. She just asks, 'You want me to heat some stuff up...?'

There isn't really much of a question in her words.

Taichi almost jumps in his seat, and answers for Takeru, 'Of course! He needs a proper meal.'

Hikari smiles, and goes. She's happy to mother him.

Takeru feels like goading her, like asking her if she enjoys playing housewife. He won't demean her in front of Taichi, though. He's not stupid. He and Hikari can have their fun time later. He's just surprised by how quickly Taichi's shifted from playground leader to an almost fatherly guardian type-of-guy. It's unsettlingly easy to accept.

Eventually, Hikari brings some plates over and they're all having a second dinner, over a movie. It's cool, because it demands enough of Takeru's attention that he can't lose himself in anything else.

This is therapeutic. None of the things Yamato's been suggesting sound even remotely relaxing.  _This_. It's all he needs. He'd be crazy to ask for more, or to leave for less. Everything that's happened so far seems crazy enough - and yet, smoking with Taichi kind of made his night. It was totally stupid, totally bizarre. Totally mental.


	10. Chapter 10

'You don't look very good.'

If Takeru wasn't feeling so lightheaded, he'd have given Koushiro the middle finger.

'Would I have bothered coming here if I wasn't feeling  _good_ , Koushiro-senpai-?'

Koushiro rolls his eyes, because of course Takeru visits every now and then, and helps Takeru in. Referring to Koushiro like that had become a habit for Takeru - he never really learnt all that much about computers in all the lessons Koushiro had graciously led him through, though.

Koushiro's apartment is a tip; even if one were to ignore the tech paraphernalia building up in heaps on practically every available surface, they'd be astonished by the level of accumulating rubbish. The air is totally dry, and slightly warm from the overheating of what must be most of Koushiro's appliances.

Takeru has half a mind to 'accidentally' knock some of the papers off the table, just to see what Koushiro would do. Koushiro probably thought of the whole thing as an organised mess, like that made it acceptable.

Sitting the younger down, Koushiro asks, 'So what are your symptoms?'

Takeru likes that Koushiro always gets straight to the point.

'I... my mouth is dry, and I'm thirsty as fuck. I've got a headache, and I've been constipated all week. My feet are killing me…'

Moving to get a glass of water for Takeru, Koushiro quizzes, 'Shouldn't you have called an ambulance?'

'And get everyone on my case if something else  _is_  wrong with me? No thank you. I figure you're smart enough to work out what's wrong with me and fix it.'

Takeru knows how stupid he sounds - he knows that there are a shit load of things that are wrong with him. Only, here he doesn't have to justify himself. At least Koushiro can work with that.

'You should have gone to Jou.'

Takeru accepts the proffered glass of water, taking slow sips as Koushiro starts searching the symptoms on the internet. Jou lives too far away, and Koushiro was in walking distance. Takeru wasn't bothered to make the longer trip, particularly when disturbing Jou would probably have bigger consequences.

Takeru tries not to concentrate too hard on anything for a while - he already feels swamped by all the stuff on the tables, in the cabinets, even on two of the seats. He doesn't need more stress.

'What medication are you taking currently?'

Takeru struggles to think. 'Efadermin. Something like that.'

As he continued typing, presumably starting a new search, Koushiro pipes up suggestively, 'We should probably let Hikari know where you are.'

Takeru puts the glass down with an unsteady hand, and sits back with an overworked sigh. Koushiro's probably right. If he's dying, he'd like to see Hikari once at least. Everyone seems to know how in charge Hikari is of his care anyway. Koushiro carries on - like he would have even if Takeru had opposed to informing Hikari.

Takeru knows that Koushiro makes smart decisions. Takeru wishes he was the same. Takeru doesn't have to blame his rocky mental health - he's just an idiot. He's always believed in stupid things and now his life choices were coming back to bite him. Maybe, he considers, he should smoke less…

'Lithium.'

Takeru blinks up at Koushiro, and says drolly, 'You'll have to speak up _, I'm dying._ '

' _Lithium_. The chemical element. It's a key ingredient of your medication, and it happens to be toxic in uncoordinated doses. Have you been taking extra pills?'

It hurts for Takeru to admit, 'I'm not sure. Don't think so. I have a routine… If it's toxic, does that mean-?'

'You're not going anywhere, Takeru.' Koushiro says sternly as he emergency-calls for an ambulance, 'Not on my watch.'

Takeru grips the armrests harder. So this is what it felt like to die.

The ambulance journey was fun. At least, this time, he wasn't the one panicking. He was too busy minding his symptoms. Instead, Koushiro is engaged in both a heated conversation with the paramedics and a quick-response text battle with Hikari.

One of the green-clad doctors asks Takeru if he's had diarrhoea recently, and he tells them no. He says that his feet hurt - which they did - and that if they didn't slow down right then he might actually puke. If he still wasn't so dizzy, Takeru might have laughed at the way Koushiro itched to edge away from him.

The paramedics say some more stuff to him that he doesn't understand - he isn't really listening - and the next thing he knows he's being unloaded at the hospital. Koushiro walks beside him as he's carried on a stretcher - he hadn't even noticed that he wasn't walking.

The grey walls are numbing, and the white ribbed bed frames remind him of skeletons. It's like the hospital wants to remind him how close to death he was. Or rather, how close to death he is.

Hikari is there when he's set up just outside the poisoning centre, in a neighbouring ward, hooked up to a precautionary intravenous drip. She looks extremely upset, and very pissed.

She's so sexy when she's angry.

She hits Koushiro on the shoulder, and scolds, 'You apathetic asshole, Koushiro-san! You could've told me what was going on instead of leaving me with the minimal details-'

He defends, 'I was  _trying_  to explain to the doctors what was happening but I had to turn my phone off because  _you_  kept freaking out, and, do you realise how stressful it is to text and talk at the same time-?!'

'You put your phone on silent? Ha ha! Brave man, Koushiro-senpai.'

They both remember Takeru, and frown, like they'd momentarily forgotten why they were even there at all. Hikari looks vengeful, which isn't ever a good sign.

Takeru begins, 'Hey, don't look at me like that. Apparently my prescription was wrong so this time I'm not even the reason why I'm in hospital-'

She shuts him up with a kiss. Her face is pressed against his and her lips feel great and refreshing and alive but at the same time he was in the middle of a sentence and completely unprepared and - she breaks away from him, allowing him to gain back some breath and composure, and then smacks him solidly on the shoulder.

'You  _stupid_  man.'

Takeru catches Koushiro's eyes, and the man backs away with hands signalling that he has no idea what's going on with Hikari. If he wasn't bed-bound, Takeru would probably back off too. But then again, he's had worse fights with her. Just not so publicly.

'Stop being a whiny bitch, Hikari. Shit happens.' he says, trying to sound deadpanned.

Koushiro doesn't hear the waver in Takeru's voice, but she must have, for she cools down a bit and her stance relaxes. Hikari still looks sulky, but she takes it on the chin.

He loves her. He really does loves her. He loves that she takes a seat instead of leaving. When Takeru expects her to go away, she comes closer instead. Even though her arms are crossed and her legs are crossed and her eyes are averted, she's all there. All there, just for him.

His arm still aches from the drip, so he doesn't reach out for her hand. He could if he really wanted to, but Takeru thinks he can get away without it for now. It would end up comforting her more than him right now, he figures, and he certainly can't have that.

Koushiro's phone rings, and there attentions are diverted.

He swears under his breath, which is unlike him. He doesn't reply to it straight away, either - that too, is out of character. Something definitely isn't right with Koushiro.

Takeru goes to look at Hikari, and she's already looking back at him because they both noticed the same thing. They have moments like that.

'Koushiro-san, don't you want to take that?' she asks.

He frowns. 'I'm not sure if you'd want me to. Especially you, Takeru, considering who's on the other end.'

And of course he chooses now to be cryptic.

'Koushiro,' Takeru says calmly, 'how does Yamato even know-'

'He doesn't.' Koushiro clarifies, checking the screen of his phone as it stops ringing and flashing. 'I was supposed to meet him, Mimi and Sora for drinks over an hour ago. I… I didn't say where I was because I know you're not on the best of terms right now.'

Takeru wants to thank him, but he didn't ask for any favours. So instead, he stays quiet. Koushiro looks at him harder, wondering if an answer is coming.

'Takeru, what do you want me to say?' He presses, an edge of impatience ghosting in his tone.

'Tell him… just tell him the truth. You can say you helped me to hospital - fuck it. I'd rather not be the one who explains what happened tonight anyway. You'll have an easier job of it anyway, and fuck knows Yamato wouldn't come to me himself.'

'But Takeru-' starts Hikari.

'It's ok, Hikari. I won't make a liar out of Koushiro-senpai.' Takeru says, and his words sound so final neither of them question him further.

Koushiro nods, and Hikari stands as he bids, 'Alright, I'm going to head off. I'd better let the others know sooner rather than later.'

'Just… don't tell them which hospital. I don't want any visitors.'

Koushiro stills, like he's mulling over the request, but he finally nods again and says, 'Sure. Even if Yamato isn't going to leave me alone…'

'Thank you for your help tonight, Koushiro-san.' Hikari says gratefully, 'If you weren't there -'

Koushiro rubs her arm, and says, 'No sweat, right Takeru?'

'Heh. Sure.'

As Koushiro leaves the ward, Takeru can't help but question how sane the man is. He has all these quirks, idiosyncrasies, and sometimes he seems like a walking existential crisis. And yet, without him, everything could have gone to shit. Maybe he doesn't have the right to evaluate Koushiro. He's a good guy. Takeru can definitely think of some worse people.


	11. Chapter 11

'Hi.'

Takeru should have just left the door. He should have pretended to not be home. Was it too late to jump out the window? Fifth floor… he might survive.

He has so many regrets in his life.

For whatever reason, he steps aside and lets her walk into his apartment; Hikari has finally asked him to move in with her, so a lot of his stuff is in boxes and there's plastic wrap over most of the furniture. The place looks empty already. He wasn't really attached to the place - he's more attached to his girlfriend.

She looks great, for her age. Her blonde hair hasn't faded at all, and her skin looks good. She doesn't look old at all. Still thin, still pretty - she's hardly changed. Clutching her shiny black-leather bag with two hands, she has a quick look around the apartment. It's a habit of hers - judging on the first look. She doesn't wait for stories - she digs for them.

'You're… moving.'

Takeru briefly wonders if Yamato told his parents that he had declined their offer to play happy family. He doesn't care, but it'd be interesting to know.

'Hikari wants to keep me closer, she likes my company.'

He won't talk to her simply. She likes to be as long-winded as possible, he can play that game too. He grew up with it.

'I see.' she says, her voice steady and accepting. And yet, she doesn't sound like she's accepted the futility of her visit at all.

She sits down on one of chairs, and stares at him as she sets her bag down. Takeru hates when she looks at him like that. She shifts on the plastic, scuffing the floor with her heels.

'Have you been eating?'

Was she sizing him up, or sizing him down? Takeru can never tell what she wants.

'No, I photosynthesise and Hikari waters me every other day.'

Her mouth wavers between a glower and a smile. 'Hmm, you always were the funny one.'

'Someone had to be.'

She gets stiff when she gets defensive. Sitting up straighter, she says, 'I presume Yamato told you about our new situation -'

Takeru doesn't get why she's decided to become so evasive. He wants to shout at her, to tell her to get straight to the point, to leave, but he has long since learnt restraint.

'Yamato doesn't tell me shit.'

'That's your brother you're talking about-'

' _Yamato_  didn't  _tell_  me  _shit_.' Takeru repeats, speaking more clearly and slowly, insuring that she fucking listens.

She sighs, and regards her son with a strained brow. 'Takeru, we'd love for everyone to be together after all this time-'

'Oh, and  _I'm_  getting in the way, that it?' Takeru bites, pulling a chair from by the wall and spinning it around to sit across from her.

'You… and Dad, and Yamato, y-you - you all left me.'

He doesn't want to cry. He won't.

'You guys built your life. I have mine. You think you can fix things and that everything will get sorted out, but it doesn't work that way.'

She hasn't even blinked. They just stare at each other. Takeru can't help but think that she's delusional.

'Takeru, I'm sorry you didn't hear about this from us. Maybe, we were wrong to not come to you ourselves.'

'Saying 'we', like you never got divorced, like it wasn't messy. That's so fucking rich.'

Takeru leans back, and tries not to laugh. 'I wonder how long you'll last this time?'

She looks like she wants to slap him, but she won't. She won't let anyone get to her like that. The only person who ever could was her ex-husband. She'll act like it doesn't bother her, like his language doesn't bother her. Instead, she'll retaliate. She throws a curve-ball his way.

'You went to hospital, recently. Will you at least share some details…?' She asks, sounding more like the practiced journalist she is. Takeru wouldn't have been phased if she pulled out a notebook and pen from her purse. She likes being in control of the conversation.

He recalls succinctly, 'I was on lithium-based meds, but the doctors decided that I'm more sensitive to lithium being in my system than most people, so they've taken me off it. Prescribed me something else. Koushiro - you remember him - he called the ambulance.'

She nods. Yamato hadn't managed to wring out so much as a drop of  _detail_  from neither Takeru, Hikari nor Koushiro. But, his visitor was a stickler for detail.

'That- that's good, I suppose.'

She's such a bad actress - she says that like she didn't know everything he'd told her already. Koushiro would've told Yamato as much.

'You  _would_  say that. You didn't see me about to die.'

She has that look; the edges of her eyes crinkle and her lips quirk just enough that Takeru knows she's close to tears. She's not one of the blubbering types - she'll go from zero to a hundred in milliseconds.

She looks at the ceiling and almost hoarsely, she says, 'We never know when something happens to you. We're your parents, we should at least know.'

Takeru isn't sure who she's angry at. Herself… Yamato or Dad… she seems to regret something. But it doesn't matter to him. He's done. He let go of them.

'You should speak to Hikari about that.'

She looks at Takeru questioningly, and he further explains, 'She's listed as my next of kin, see. She makes a lot of decisions for me.'

'It's because of her that you dropped out of university. I'm guessing you're moving in with her because she told you to-'

Takeru smacks the table behind him with a fist, and she actually jumps in her seat.

'Don't you dare talk shit about her. You don't get to say anything against Hikari. She's nothing like you!'

Takeru sees the glass of her eyes shatter, and he knows that he's thrown enough punches. She has to understand - she left him, not the other way around. She threw him away, hoping he'd get fixed and returned like a car being taken in for a service.

Cars don't attempt suicide.

She brushes her hair back, away from her face, and notes, 'Hikari means a lot to you.'

He loves Hikari. He really, really does. If she deems him tolerable enough one day, he'll marry her. He thinks it's entirely plausible that they can enjoy a life together. He loves Hikari that strongly and more strongly still. Nothing anyone says will ever change that. Even if  _she_  tries…

Takeru rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward as he scratches the back of his head. He can't work out her game. Of all people, she would have one. He never saw that side of her growing up, but, it was probably always there. Conniving… no, that was too brutal a word. She was just so cunning. She got what she wanted by any means. Takeru doesn't know what she wants. She's already wrecked his week by coming here, what more could she want?

'We put up with each other. That's more than you can say about-'

'All those years -' she cuts off, knowing what he wants to say, '- and you never complained. Never asked why. Never sought to call us out on our stupid arrangement-'

'You raised a proud boy.'

'Pride will only get you so far. And you were better than that.'

Were. That's a low blow and then some.

'You made it clear you wouldn't like me digging, so I didn't.  _I listened to you_. I respected you.'

She sighs, knowing what he really means. He doesn't respect her anymore.

'Yamato was angry, but at least he was honest about it. You, you were so easy about it. You… why didn't you ever say anything to me? We butchered your childhood, I know. But you bottled it up and now you're suffering, all these hospital visits-'

Takeru doesn't want to raise his voice but it happens instinctively anyway. 'I  _was_  suffering. Once upon a time. Not anymore. I'm over it, and I'm over you. Don't kid yourself, thinking you can come and play mother when all the heavy work is already done. It doesn't matter who you think is at fault. I've made my peace.'

He can't even look at her anymore.

'And apparently you're making yours.'

She doesn't even deny it. She left for a reason, and that reason is more powerful than she knows. But he knows.

'So Yamato did tell you we're back together-.'

'He said that you and Dad were in contact again. You've just told me the rest, just now.'

She looks jolted, and Takeru find it bittersweet. He doesn't want to ruin her life, but he wants to do something because she ruined his. He can't be perfect for Hikari because of what his parents did. He's just so done with it.

'I think you should make a move, maybe even have Yamato committed to a psych ward before it's too late. Just don't send him back here on some stupid mission for you.'

She looks defiant, ignoring his defensive sarcastic barb as she tries, 'I… I didn't mean for things to turn out this way.'

Thankfully, she stands of her own accord, and strides to the door with as much grace as she can muster before turning to address him once more.

Softly, she says, 'I'm sorry for hurting you. For not helping where I could've. I'm so sorry for not being around enough.'

Takeru's watery eyes are hard like ice. 'You could've called. You just didn't.'

Slamming the door behind her is as good as he's going to get, he thinks. It was a complete farce, all of her apologies, her efforts, her explanations. She sounded almost sincere, but Takeru's happy to trust his instincts on this one. If she thinks he'll ever forgive them after everything he's been through, or ever call her his mother again, she's just insane.


	12. Chapter 12

'You should talk less.'

Hikari's been rambling for ages now, and Takeru has had enough. He doesn't care how her day went, not today. He doesn't want to know what's going on in the world; he doesn't have the will to care today.

Hikari looks so pretty, too. She has her hair down, for the first time in a while, and there's a strand that keeps blowing in her face - and she's artistic so she doesn't mind it, probably likes it in fact, but Takeru is struggling so desperately to resist bringing a soft hand to it and tucking her hair back behind her ear. He likes her make up too - people should regard the beauty of her eyes more often, he thinks.

'Excuse me-?'

'I didn't ask for your bloody insight, I just need someone to listen to what I'm fucking saying.'

He had been telling her all about his mother's quick visit, and she kept interrupting and giving him advice and asking questions - she was making it more difficult for him than it needed to be. She was using up his brain's precious processing resources… he couldn't think. He wasn't sure who was being ruder - himself, or her.

'Well,  _excuse me_  for having an opinion.' She says frankly.

Hikari could grouse; Takeru didn't care. He just wanted to be the one talking. The words were all over his mind, they needed to get out.

' _Yes_ , excuse you. You're not the one with a shitty family trying to drag you back into  _their_  shitty life. She had the bloody audacity to think I would want to go back to them, like I'd want to pretend all the time. Don't wish that on me.'

Hikari looks back at him, curious. His face is almost impassive whenever he remembers something about his past - it hurts that she was a part of his childhood, but that their memories were so different. She hadn't really known him, it seems.

'I… I can't feel the way I do with them. I have to be… I have to behave, I have to be good, I need to be ok all the time, and sometimes I'm not and they'd never understand, Hikari! I won't go back to that.'

'Takeru…' she starts, but her interjection pisses him off.

'And I certainly don't fucking appreciate  _you_  telling  _me_  that maybe  _I_  should try being with them. I'm not going to change for them. They wouldn't change for me so why should I? I refuse to try.'

His being bipolar has nothing to do with the way he switches from soft and contemplative to harsh and ridiculous and corrosive and stubborn. Hikari wonders if Takeru's just learnt to take liberties with his condition.

Staring deeply at the ripples of wood in the table-top, he says, 'I don't act for anyone anymore.'

His hands are almost shaking, his arms are so tense. He says that he isn't a pretender, but even now Hikari can see how much restraint he's employing. He has to let go. She… however much he wants to believe it, she'll never let go of him. She isn't them.

And yet, a dark thought nags at the back of her mind. She doesn't like the logical answer her mind supplies - she can only watch him so far. But what would he say?

'Did you ever act for me?'

He looks up, and is genuinely surprised to see a few lone tears sparkling by her eyes. She doesn't need to ask, but he knows she will anyway. She has already guessed his answer.

'Did you ever act, when you were with me? When we were best friends, when we got together, all those times it was just you, and me-'

He won't lie. If he has to be honest, he will. Takeru knows it'll hurt her, but she's asking to hear it from him. She already knows the fucking answer.

'When we were first going out, we fell into a routine. We became one of those boring couples that just chill together, and don't talk -'

'You never said-'

'You were  _happy_. I wasn't exactly going to spoil that. I love you.'

Her teardrops are purple.

Huh.

'And suddenly, I've never loved you? Is that what you're saying? That y-you - only you can commit to this, only you can sacrifice for this relationship? You have a voice, Takeru - an- and,'

She pauses to take a stabilising breath, before she shouts terribly.

'I live every fucking day for you!'

She gets up from her seat and grabs her purse as she storms to the door. Her instinct is always to put distance between them. He won't admit it, but that hurts him. He'll never admit it. He should hurt when it's what he expects. Takeru braces himself.

'Hikari, I get it, it's not your fault. Leave if you want - I've always said that you would - but remember, we broke up. And then _, we got back together again._  We're living together. We… we're spending our lives together. And whether you like it or not, now, you're stuck with me.'

She looks back, and he knows; she'll get over it. She'll come back - she won't like herself for it, either, for going in the first place.

She insists under her breath, 'I'm  _not_  boring.'

He'd tried to save her, to stop her from feeling so crap about herself. He loves her, he really does. He loves her enough that he'd always try to save her. But, he can't take all the blame. Hikari knows as much but still, she slams the door hard behind her.

He understands her frustration, at least. No one else understands his, however unfair that feels.

They're all stupid.


	13. Chapter 13

'I thought you'd left me.'

It's as simple as that. She hadn't been taking his calls. He'd been relentless in tracking her down. He finds her hiding at Sora's. When she opens the door, he addresses her curtly, but lovingly. And she wasn't even able to meet his eye, still.

That bruise, though. That… that was new.

'What happened to your…?'

He doesn't care if it hurts; he grabs her face, and Hikari whimpers as he inspects the blotchy poppy of a bruise blooming on her left cheek. It doesn't look right at all. The shape of it, he knows where those kind of bruises come from. Yamato had graciously given him one in almost the exact same place Hikari had one now, when he had last tried to end his life. Takeru knew what imprints of knuckles looked like.

He wasn't exactly proud of that fact, but at least he knew. Silver linings.

'Who... who did this to you?'

His voice is suddenly so soft, so involved, even she's surprised. Had she expected him not to react, not to notice? His emotions were already running high.

She shakes his hands away, and has the audacity to tell him, 'It's fine, really.'

The wobble in her voice, the excess exasperation as she insists what they both know is a downright lie. He can't help but growl at her - she doesn't lie to him.

'Hikari!' he shouts again.

She clearly doesn't see how serious this is, how serious this is to him. He's going to kill whoever punched his Hikari in the face. He's going to beat them to death. He wouldn't even regret it.

'Ken's looking into it for me-'

'Ken?! I don't care if he's some big shot investigator now, you're telling  _me_  what happened right now!'

He's never been more frustrated with her in his life. Who is she protecting?

'I was walking home from work, and…'

She goes to rub her jaw, and winces. The entire left side of her face must be prickling with pain, and she actually gasps as she presses on the bruise with testing fingers. Takeru knows he's a little bit responsible for the aggravation - he should be treating her more delicately.

'You need ice.'

He doesn't say anything else to her. Silence. He hopes that if she wants to talk, she'll talk. She isn't him, she takes her own advice - she's always telling him that talking out his thoughts and feelings and memories will improve his handling of them, and Hikari practices what she preaches.

He takes a bag of frozen peas from Sora's freezer; Sora's apartment is small, and tucked away from the busy main roads. If Takeru didn't already know where Sora lived, he'd never have thought Hikari would have even gone near this area. Hikari empathises with the hustle and bustle of city life. He loves that about her.

Sora's nowhere around, but the whole place smells like her - like dusty fabric and fresh flowers and incense and all those other stuffy things he and Hikari never bother with. Candles, bookshelves, some pears in a kitsch fruit-bowl, massive antique calligraphy leant against the wall but not hung - typical Sora store-room fashion. There was probably a wardrobe full of racquets somewhere…

He didn't even know Hikari and Sora were still this close.

As he wrapped the makeshift ice pack in paper towels, Hikari recounted, 'I was taking my usual route through the park.'

Takeru nods, satisfied.

'It was only a bit of overtime, it wasn't even that late. But the park was empty. This…'

She's reluctant to tell him, but she powers through. He presses the pack to her face, and she sighs in relief and discomfort.

'This man, not huge but bigger than me anyway, he just came out of nowhere and tried to take my purse. I scratched his face and he hit me, but apparently I caught his eye or something because he stumbled and I had time to run.'

'I've always hated that stupid beaded purse. You need to get a new one.'

She chuckles, but the face she makes after is annoyed, like she's reprimanding him for making light of the situation. He wasn't even kidding.

'Takeru… don't make me laugh. My head'll hurt.'

'I wasn't kidding. It looks completely snatch-able.'

He wasn't. He really wasn't. If she was humoured by him, he didn't care- whatever makes her feel better. Pressing the peas against the bruise seems to be helping, and eventually Hikari relaxes against him.

'I didn't mean to run away from home. I didn't want you to see, make-up won't even cover it-'

Takeru shushes her, and says blithely, 'There was a time when you used to always come to me first when you had a problem. You used to trust me. Do you not love me anymore or something-?'

She snatches the bag of peas from his hand, and holds it against her own face.

'And what about you? You were dying, but you went to Koushiro first! You could have easily called me on your way-'

'You didn't even bother calling me, period. I've been looking all over for you! You're lucky Taichi-san is away on business or we'd have  _both_  been hunting you down.'

Taking her wrist and sitting her down rather forcefully in one of Sora's few chairs, he snatches the peas back and says, 'This is leniency.'

She glowers, and argues, 'I don't need you to look after me. If you hadn't noticed, we aren't kids anymore.'

They fight often enough, but it never feels personal. This feels personal.

'Hikari,' starts Takeru, 'I don't care how old we are. Someone punches you in the face, you fucking tell me!'

He doesn't understand why she doesn't understand how he feels, and it probably pisses him off. He purposely holds the thawing peas over her mouth so she can't talk, and brushes her hair out of her face. She looks fuming, but for once he really isn't amused.

'When we broke up, that first time after high school, you said it because I didn't trust you to look after yourself. I get that I smothered you, but this is different. Back then, us getting hurt was more of a definitive.'

She pulls the bag away enough to get out a muffled, 'You mean definite, you can't use definitive as a substitute-'

'Hikari! Shut the fuck up!'

She goes so quiet it sounds like she isn't even breathing. She was trying to be prissy and rude and callous and annoying - because that's exactly what he does when he's suffering - but while it works for him, he just doesn't think it's at all becoming on her.

'I get that you feel vulnerable. I do. But you shouldn't be fearful. You shouldn't be afraid to worry me. I won't promise not to worry, but I won't get annoying and über-protective.'

 _That look_  flickers on her face.

'… This time.' he adds. 'Just talk to me.'

She leans into his hold, and admits, 'I scratched the guy's face, didn't I? I'm safe now.'

Her voice is so quiet, like if she speaks any louder she'll lose the strength to continue.

'So why do I still feel so scared?'

* * *

 

When Sora walks in, she finds Takeru nursing a mug of coffee and watching Hikari sleep on the couch.

'Hey,' she says, softly, not at all surprised to see him. She'd always thought of him as wily and capable, and when it came to causes he believed in he wouldn't ever give up. Hikari was his raison d'être.

'Hi,' replies Takeru, looking up at her.

To him, Sora has hardly changed; her eyes look a little more tired, but otherwise she's the same. Her hair is pretty much the same. Her fashion sense - standard. She always was a busy girl.

She sets her bags down on the kitchen counter, and comes back out to get details.

'Is she ok?'

He looks at her blandly. 'What do  _you_  think?'

Ok. Maybe she deserves that. Not that it was her fault Hikari didn't want to tell him what happened, but still, she probably could've handled it better. She'd forgotten that Takeru wasn't so plushy and innocent anymore.

He has his own reasons to be distant.

'I meant, is she feeling better?'

He shrugs. 'She didn't really cry, but she probably will. She fell asleep while we were watching TV. I hope you don't mind, but I borrowed some of your coffee. Hikari likes the smell, so I figured that I'd make a bit to calm her down.'

Maybe he hasn't changed that much after all.

Sora says, 'Don't worry about it. My home is your home.'

'Thanks for looking after her.'

His voice sounds completely sincere, but there's a tension in his eyes that she can't understand. Sora isn't sure if she imagined it, but it seemed like he was warning her not to get involved again. Not that it was her fault, but Sora wasn't about to start a fight on what might be a misunderstanding. Maybe the darkness in his eyes was just something he had picked up over time. She knew he had problems, but there was something else behind his gaze.

He looked at her like he was properly damaged, even when he was trying to be positive.

'It was no bother, really. She knows she can come to me.'

The message is silent, but Takeru nods in understanding.

'You can, as well, you know.'

Takeru frowns. 'I… We both know that isn't a good idea. This is already awkward enough.'

She looks at him with hard eyes. She liked to play mother sometimes, and she was eerily similar to his real one. But this time, she can't be like that. It wouldn't be appropriate.

'That really still bothers you?' She says, remembering perfectly.

'Well you did choose my brother in the end. However much you deny it, what we did must have had an impact on your choice. Maybe I feel guilty.'

Her frown dissolves.

' _On your behalf_ , of course. I didn't have anything to do with what happened with you and my brother.'

Just when she thought he had grown up. Dismissively, she says, 'Takeru, please. Kissing  _you_  didn't change the fact that your brother was better for me…'

And seeing his squint, she adds, '…  _At the time._ '

'You would've been happier with Taichi-san.'

'Yeah, well… we know he wants nothing to do with me. Not now.'

Takeru shakes his head, and watches as Hikari stirs in her sleep. 'Call him, you stupid woman.'

Taichi was crazy in love with her. Sora's always known as much.

'I'm not stupid. Maybe I was stupid back then, but what young adult isn't? Sue me for being curious and confused and excitable.' says Sora, going back to her groceries.

Takeru scoffs, taking a sip from his mug and stroking Hikari's hair. Sora will have to wait; he can only handle one demented damsel in distress at a time.


	14. Chapter 14

_'She still won't say anything. I went to her house - talking to Taichi-san was bad enough all things considered-'_

_'How is he? Tai, I mean. Did he look ok?'_

_Sora pulled at her sleeves, and that was when Takeru clocked; Sora was in the midst of her own relationship crisis. She didn't carry an air of nervousness. But there were little mannerisms - she was certainly unsure about something. There was tension somewhere, and while he knew they held each other in high regard, he doubted Sora was that worried over his failing relationship with Hikari._

_'He didn't look out of the ordinary if that's what you mean. Considering, he wasn't very happy to see me. Hikari wouldn't even come to the door. I just about managed to convince him to let me in. But he was pretty lenient, 'specially when I started begging.'_

_'I see.'_

_Sora starts pacing, and suggests, 'Maybe you need to back off. Let her cool down a bit.'_

_'That ever work on you?' asks Takeru with heavy scepticism._

_'Huh?'_

_'Yamato left you to yourself last time you fought and you shouted at him for being uncaring. Trust me - Hikari and I were laughing so much, spectating, I haven't forgotten. You're telling me to do the same thing?'_

_'That was different.' she says, her voice faltering as she realised the flaw in her logic._

_Takeru laughs bitterly. 'It's always different.'_

_She frowns, but has nothing to say in argument against him._

_Her house is quiet - he had come to her at the perfect time; her mother was still working in the shop (her father, who knows where) and she wasn't due to start helping out till the evening, after she'd finished 'school work' - which was usually when she hung out with her friends. Takeru didn't want her to be distracted when he asked for her advice._

_The problem was that he was already too late for that._

_'What's with you?'_

_'Hmm? Nothing. I'm fine. Tell me more about Hikari-chan.'_

_Even as the words fall out of her mouth, she knows how distracted she sounds._

_'Something's up with you. Tell me.'_

_And there's a charming power in his eyes, a dominating force that pulls the secrets out of her. She doesn't know how he's even doing it, or if he's doing anything intentional at all, but she finds it difficult to hide her thoughts from him. He's the confidant she didn't really think she had before. It's so refreshing when people throw caution to the wind, and just get to the point._

_'Taichi… and Yamato. They both asked me to go out. On the same night. So I have to decide. You know how they are – whoever I pick is the winner, with them. I'm… I'm so screwed!'_

_'Ah, I see.'_

_And then, he's smiling because she's so confused. She isn't sure what to do when he looks at her that way. She knows better than to question him, sometimes, but sometimes he can be a right idiot about things and it pushes all sorts of buttons._

_'You're so stupid.'_

_And then he's laughing at her incredulity. That just serves to piss her off. Takeru can be such a devil sometimes._

_'How am I the stupid one? Only stupid people go to stupid people for advice.'_

_He gives her a look that she knows means to just chill out, shush and listen, so she does. She trusts him._

_'Taichi and Yamato have both liked you for ages. You should have already decided whether you like them by now, and which one you'd rather date. To be fair, you've basically been dating them both since forever.'_

_She really had no idea. Wasn't she supposed to be in the know? Love-expert, his cutesy ass._

_'Takeru! How was I supposed to know-'_

_He sobers a little at her despondency, and advises, 'You have to look a little more deeply into things guys do. At the end of the day, everyone has a motive.'_

_She sighs. Things have never been simple, and the realisation has hit her in the face all too late. She's run out of time to prepare. Takeru had once warned her that this kind of thing could happen._

_'No selfless deeds?'_

_'Nope. No selfless deeds.' he repeats sympathetically, smiling sadly for her sake._

_Sora smiled. Takeru knew exactly how to deal with her, how to stop her from thinking herself into a stupor. It was sweet of him to waste his time with her._

_'So what was your motive, talking to me?'_

_He whines, 'You're supposed to be consoling me over Hikari, but clearly it's become your turn to grouse-'_

_'I have you beat.' She says, nudging him good-humouredly._

_He nudges her back. 'This was supposed to be my sad summer. Shut up.'_

_She does, and revels a little in the peace of their silence._

_'I have a solution, for your issue with Taichi-san and Onii-san.' He says suddenly, sounding so nonchalant and chill that Sora's abruptly sure that he really will be able to help._

_'What, exactly?' she says, as his hand moves closer to her own, so that their fingers are a hair's width apart._

_She looks up at him, and for some reason she feels a bit hot around the collar. What was he seeing that she wasn't? Why was he looking at her like that? Was she going insane, or was he leaning closer?_

_God, Takeru was pretty._

_'Pick neither – choose someone else, entirely...'_

_And their lips are suddenly pressing against each other and his hands have moved to her waist, and hers have clasped his shoulder, and her problems seemed to have melted away-_

_It's all incredibly rushed, and alarming, and comforting, and crazy._


	15. Chapter 15

'What?'

Hikari considers him for a second, before stepping back and carrying on with whatever she was doing. 'Nothing.' She says, smiling, like that explains everything.

'Whatever.'

He feels irritable, so he's being irritable. He's satisfied. Hell, he's having a nice enough time being on his own. There's only one voice in his head, and it's telling him to be pissed with the universe.

He hears her mumble almost inaudibly under her breath. ' _Just another day_ -'

'Stop smiling at me like that!'

Her lips actually falter. 'Like how?'

'You… you told me not to be dishonest around you but you're parading that… that fucking  _brave_  smile like you're  _putting up with me_ -'

'I  _am_  putting up with you.' She says bluntly, her posture tightening up. 'You can cheer up a little you know. You're hiding behind your mental health, pushing everything that'll make you feel better away because you're scared of feeling happy.'

'How would you know?' he hisses. Where was this coming from? When did Hikari become a fucking psychologist…?

'Well,' she says, chuckling darkly and hysterically and in a way he would never have imagined her capable, 'you hardly look at me anymore. I thought you were supposed to be my lover, my boyfriend? This…'

He knows that she wants to say that their relationship is a joke, but instead what comes out of her mouth is, '… you haven't touched me in forever.'

Takeru huffs, biting, 'Seriously? Just because we haven't had sex in a while doesn't mean I've – that I've somehow lost interest in you! You don't even want to be here!'

She doesn't know where that came from. To be honest, he didn't either. To think, they'd both thought that they were past this.

He swears, 'There's nothing in your way! Fucking go, if you want!'

'I don't  _want_  to go! But you know what, you make it so hard for anyone to want to stay!'

'Liar.' He says, shoving past her and heading into the bathroom.

She doesn't follow. There's nothing left for her to say. Nothing will be enough for him, not when he isn't ready to accept anyone else's answer.

He walks into their bathroom; it's perfect for heavy thinking. Takeru gets up to a lot of that these days. It's a daily struggle, staring into the mirror and bearing in mind that he can't keep look-out over his pesky reflection forever. He probably would, if Hikari wasn't always there to drag him away. Takeru doesn't want to believe it, but it's a fact; he's afraid that his reflection laughs behind his back when he turns away. He gets a feeling, like it's not worth the aggravation, but at the same time it's so aggravating that he can't forget it. It hurts. Paranoia – a tell-tale sign of poor mental health. And doesn't he have the medical history to prove it?

Hikari acts like she thinks it's quirky, but he knows when she's lying. He knows that it was sucky for her when he did it, but now it's plain insulting. It would be easy to get separated from her, to run away. She'd certainly be better off. He could pack some essentials while she was asleep, make a break for it before she even notices that he's so much as moved from beside her-

Fuck… he can't. If he did, he'd only ever be looking back, looking for her to see if she's following like she insists she will. Looking for her to stop his inner self from tearing his heart apart.

It'll be easier to pretend as if nothing happened, as if nothing was said, he figures. He'll simply enjoy her, bask in her company.

He loves her, he really does. Oddly enough, he understands why she's learnt to lie – it's better for them both. He'll love her even when she lies right to his face, telling him that it's ' _just another day_ ' whenever he does something fucked up and unfair because he can't choose right. He loves that she dismisses him time and time again, only accepting what they both know is the best truth.

He's just a lonely, disturbed soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Keane's Nothing In My Way


	16. Chapter 16

'I d-don't remember, I-'

One second, he was in the bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror and feeling dull and quiet and particularly empty.

The next, he's covered in blood.

It's his own; he worked that out himself, and that is fine; the last thing Hikari needs is to be dating a murderer. Takeru can handle having his own blood on his hands. This is what, the billionth time he's been in a hospital this year? And here they had been, convinced the pills were helping…

Hikari, trying immensely hard to hide her frustration, sighs. 'It's ok, Takeru, it'll be ok. Just take your time, and think.'

Clearly, this can't keep happening. He can't keep becoming fine, only to end up back in the emergency room again like progress had never been made. Hikari couldn't be convinced that progress didn't exist - not like he was.

Jou, respectfully, hasn't said a word. He wasn't working traumas that night, but when Hikari had called him, he'd come running. Takeru had overheard Jou say that he'd pulled a few strings to get his case; he hadn't known how much of a big-shot Dr. Kido had become. He must be pretty good at what he does - he's yet to get any of Takeru's blood on his scrubs.

Takeru closed his eyes. Each pin-prick from Joe's stitching of his cuts leapt up his arms, making him queasy. It was electrifying. Exhilarating, in a death-is-imminent kind of way. Every stab certainly reminded him of how alive he was. One can't argue with pain, he figures.

'I really don't know. Hikari, I don't…'

He's tempted to throw in a curve ball. They already know he's crazy - Hikari wants so desperately to run, that he can see; the way she paces, gripping her stupid beaded bag so hard she might just tear it apart. He can fake amnesia. Ask where he is, who they are. Takeru didn't trust himself to keep a straight face if they reacted strongly. He might laugh, and then the illusion would be wrecked. At least, it would keep her there.

'Takeru,' says Jou before Takeru can say anything else, pressing at the latest set of stitches with gauze, 'I'm going to admit you. For the night, at least.'

He looks at Hikari, who nods hesitantly. Takeru can't see what Joe's signalling to her, but from the look of her eyes, it doesn't seem to sound very pleasant.

'So you're committing me? To psych?' queries Takeru, sounding not at all like he's guessing.

They share another look as if he isn't right in front of them. But then, Hikari shrugs and looks around - anywhere, but at him. There isn't much else to look at; the walls of the ER are as drab as ever, and he can't see much of the white walls from behind the portable blue curtains giving them a modicum of privacy.

Jou responds, 'Yes, Takeru. To psych. We're going to run some tests. Plus, there are more beds free up there. You'll be more comfortable.'

'That's fair.' says Takeru, feeling not nearly as numb as he had earlier, before he'd been slicing at his own skin with a kitchen knife-

Oh. So that's what he'd been doing. Huh, crazy. He couldn't for the life of him remember why.

He thinks about it while Jou wheels him up to the psychiatric ward on the fourth floor - Jou is silent the whole time, like he's giving Takeru time to process everything that was happening. More realistically, Takeru thought, he was just scared that Takeru might say something unsettling. Hikari hadn't come with them, not then. She must have been making phone calls. Either that or she was hiding from him; hiding, because she was stuck, because she couldn't just run away. She had committed to him, and she was fucked because  _he'd_  fucked up.

Again.

Jou speaks to the nurse at the reception desk, and finds a bed for Takeru. He wheels Takeru around again, past all the crazies, and helps him into a bed. He gets his own room; must be one of the perks of being a long-time friend. On the opposite wall to the bed, there are several motivational cat posters, and a door to a bathroom.

'Takeru…' begins Jou delicately, fiddling with his square glasses.

He only does that when he's nervous.

'Hikari isn't here anymore. Tell  _me_ , Jou-san.'

'Takeru,' he tries again, taking a breath to steady himself, 'I can't do anything without Hikari here, at least. Not anymore. I'm declaring you unfit.'

Takeru balks. 'Excuse me?'

A nurse, another doctor (a pretty blonde in a shiny lab-coat), and a massive bouncer-looking type appear at the window. Jou notices them, too, and says, 'I don't think you can make important decisions right now. That's all. And… I'm also putting you on suicide watch. Your medical history, it… it certainly doesn't look pretty. While I know you, the hospital doesn't. Neither does the law. This- this is for the best. Right now, at least.'

He sounds steely; Takeru figures that it's the part of him doing his job that stops him from feeling. Doctors have to be numb sometimes. Maybe he should've studied medicine. While Jou's parents had forced him to become productive, Takeru's had forced him to rely on no one and nothing.

'See that doctor outside? She's the psychiatric attending here. She's going to look at your chart, do a quick evaluation, and if she agrees with me she'll set up a treatment plan.'

'Is Hikari coming back?'

'We're going to contact your other doctor as well, maybe get him down here to compare notes. It's going to sound like everyone's talking about you and around you and not to you, but I can promise that I'll try and be as non-evasive as possible.'

'Is H-Hikari coming back?'

He doesn't understand.

'She- she's calling your family. They should be here, if not for this than for later. There's some paperwork involved in this and the hospital needs signatures.'

Takeru wants so desperately to scream. But he's intelligent enough to know that if he does, they'll inter him in an asylum. Instead, he says bitterly, 'Fuck you.'

Jou doesn't as much as wince - which is a credit to him, considering that Takeru's never sworn directly at him before. Almost all of their friends have pissed Takeru off at least once, but never Jou. At least, never to this degree. Takeru looks murderous.  _They_  are the last people he wants to be involved with.

'You're m-making a big mistake!'

'Takeru, please try and stay calm, you'll make it worse if you fight us. Don't fight me on this.'

Jou takes off his glasses, and stares evenly at Takeru. 'Frankly, you've done enough.'

'Done enough? What the hell do you think I get up to?'

'Self-harm? Substance abuse? Psychological abuse-?'

'I'm not psycho-abusive. Shut the fuck up-!'

Jou sits down besides the bed. 'Hikari is more of a wreck than I've ever seen her. And still you put her through hell, Takeru. I'm saying this as your friend - let someone else help you now. You have to let somebody else in, before you - before you hurt someone.'

Takeru wants to rip out his stitches. He doesn't hurt the help. He doesn't need anyone's help. He wants their decency and their peace and their tranquillity. He needs that more than anything.

'Jou, come on! You're not helping me by taking away my rights-!'

'Mr Takaishi?' says the new doctor, the psychiatrist, walking into the room and taking over from Jou, who stands and steps away. 'My name is Doctor…'

From then, he shuts out the world. There's no point listening. There's nothing he can do.

The doctor walks him through several tests, some of them totally mundane - of course he can follow the movement of her pen in front of his face, of course he'll pass a breathalyser. He complies, but when she asks him to self-report he glares. His scratchy buzz cut and his unshaven chin pair well with his glaring eyes - he looks absolutely grizzly. The doctor doesn't seem to be affected at all. Hell, she's comfortable where she is.

'You don't remember me, do you?'

Takeru's already got his eyes trained on her face, and he chews his lip - he doesn't remember. He doesn't even remember what he was doing last night.

She tips her glasses, pouting just slightly, and flashes bright blue eyes at him. 'I know your grandfather.'

'Knew. He died.' says Takeru, the words slipping out. His eyes still look dark.

'Right. I'm sorry.'

'Don't be.'

He considers her again, before it clicks in his head. He leans back, and says with the smallest of chuckles, 'Taichi-san is going to be  _so_  jealous.'

She chuckles. Catherine, the French belle, chuckles. Her accent is barely there anymore. He hadn't ever heard of her moving to Japan. Crazy. And Jou hadn't even said anything - not that he'd ever met her in France, but hadn't he at least heard of her? Dr. Kido certainly was a busy man then.

'So you  _do_  remember me.' She says, scribbling on her notepad. He can tell from the sound alone that she takes her notes in French - so many harsh accents and dashes disrupt the flow of the pen. French isn't so smooth-sailing.

He isn't, either.

'Sure. I remember  _of_  you. I don't think I ever got to  _know_  you.'

'Well aren't we in luck then?' she says, reaching over to check his chart. Takeru can't help but think that nothing about where he is now has anything to do with luck.

'Can you read the poster by that plant from here?'

He shrugs. 'Read' is subjective; he can see it, sure. He can perceive a meaning of the sentence. Will it be correct? He doesn't know. He's unfit for that kind of decision-making, isn't he? He doesn't bother explaining as much. She's a doctor; she's clever enough to figure that out on her own.

'Do you remember what you were doing yesterday?'

'Yeah, I was cutting my arms open-'

'I mean, before that. What you had for breakfast? What you read in the newspaper? Anything you did that day?'

'No.'

He answers straight away because truthfully, he can barely remember those simple details and that's scary enough. Also, he doesn't want to talk. He's too tired to explain himself. He knows that if he wants to be declared in full control of his faculties he'll have to at some point. He'll have to make them understand eventually.

Just… not right that second.

Anyway, he wanted to speak to Hikari. She deserved to hear anything he could say to explain himself away. She'd hate him for it, but she wouldn't leave him. He hopes she won't. Catherine has so much in common with him; she might be sympathetic enough to let him get what he wants.

'I want Hikari.'

Catherine nods, but says slowly, 'I don't believe that's possible at the moment, that isn't how this works.'

He shakes the gurney a little. He's only frustrated. Jou's words from earlier reverberate, and it hurts. It hurts too much to let anyone else in. He loves Hikari

'I don't care! You have to let her see me. She's my next of kin-'

'She isn't. You aren't married, you only live together, and she has no legal right over you. Your parents are already coming as soon as they can-'

He blows up when he hears that. He doesn't want  _them_  here. That they're even coming at all, he can barely believe it. He's living a nightmare.

He's left on his own, screaming and totally uncooperative. It sucks; no one has ever called him insane to his face, but they're acting like they already have.

' _No!_ '

He knocks the bedside table enough that Catherine jumps back a little in shock. There's nothing else loose in the room for him to disturb, but his message is sound. He won't play for them.

'Takeru, please calm down. If you don't I'll have to have you sedated…'

He doesn't hear anything else she says. His head is exploding with sentences he wants to roar out to scare her away. The throbbing of his blood drums away in his skull, deafeningly loud and painstakingly clear above all the buzzing and thumping and straining.

Takeru's fit ceases, eventually. His eyes ablaze, he watches as Catherine retracts from the room, and several nurses - hefty men and women who look like prison wardens because that is exactly what they are - come in to set him up with an intravenous drip. As they do so, holding him down as he struggles, he spies Jou watching remorsefully from the window. Had he been there this whole time? Fuck… no, Takeru doesn't care. Let him see. Then, someone can rationally explain the pain his so-called family put him through.

Jou doesn't catch his eye, on purpose. If they share a look, Takeru knows that his resolve will break and Jou will only see him as a kid begging, crying for help. He doesn't want to have to ask. He just wants to escape this bloody insanity.


	17. Chapter 17

'I shouldn't even  _be_  here.'

Its ladies' night and Takeru had been alone and they'd known it, so Hikari had dragged him along. They aren't supposed to be drinking heavily, and they aren't planning to go wild (Mimi is a different story). Takeru knows that they're trying to be nice and chill for him, but he kind of wants to see them go off on one. It's not like he can drink  _himself_  into oblivion. He shan't be drinking for a while yet, so he'll have to live vicariously through them.

Doesn't mean he can't complain about it, though.

'Hush! We're all here to have fun, don't be so sore!' says Mimi, gripping her drink like she was relying on it to keep her balanced - she always did get tipsy quickly.

'Hmm.' he mutters, snubbed.

Hikari smiles apologetically; at least she gets that he would rather be watching television, or reading, even having a long relaxing bath… hell, if he still smoked he'd have been high by now. He'd probably have chosen another therapy session over this. Hikari, however, also thinks that he needs to get out a little. Anything to keep his headspace out of bad places.

He loves her. Really  _really_  loves her. And by the simple gold hand on her left hand, he could tell that she really loved him. That she wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

He'd been forced to propose. It was the fastest way to make her his next of kin - thankfully, Joe and Catherine agreed that wife trumps estranged blood relatives. Izzy had bought a generic ring at Takeru's behest (rather, his intolerable and unrelenting insistence). From his hospital bed to the small sofa that'd been previously added to the room, he'd thrown it into her lap and demanded she say nothing but yes.

And now, that same ring glistened briefly in the darkness of the bar.

'Mimi, I think maybe you  _should_  take a break.' says Sora, mindful like Takeru.

Mimi rolls her eyes, but stops sipping her vodka-and-lemonade as quickly. Takeru smiles in remembrance, because despite how many years it's been Sora is still the group mother.

Both of them had estranged parents, and yet she turned out ok. Weird.

' _I_  think,' Mimi says, 'that  _you two_  need drinks topping up.'

Takeru checks and Mimi's only partially correct. Sora's cup is a weird colour that conceals the liquid inside enough for Mimi to mistake it, though Hikari's already reached the bottom of her old-fashioned. Hikari goes to shake her head, to say that  _no, she's fine,_  but Takeru beats her to it.

'Why don't you get her another one?'

Hikari looks a little scandalised, especially when Mimi jumps up without hesitation and with a squeal, heads to the bar with her purse slapping her thigh with each step.

Takeru adds, his voice sounding more careful than suggestive, 'Maybe you should go with her, Sora?'

Sora nods agreeably and flashing a calm smile, hurries behind Mimi. Hikari side-eyes him, unable to decide if he's genuinely concerned or just bored. He exhales dramatically, pretending to revel in the sudden peace.

She laughs, and shakes her head disapprovingly. 'You're so bad.'

He chuckles too, because she's not wrong. Then, he decides some entertainment is in order.

'Maybe, I just wanted you all to myself. It was easy enough to get rid of them. I wonder what else I could be getting rid of.'

When she feels his tactful fingers at a strap on her shoulder, she slaps it away with a mock-gasp.

'Takeru, come on! They'll be back any minute-'

'I'll let you take the lead…'

Her eyes light up. It's rare that he lets her lead him with wanton abandon. He isn't usually so passive.

To test him, she stands up and pulls him out of his seat. 'Let's dance then.'

It's a wonder that he doesn't resist. She takes him to the dance floor, where the only light comes from neon refractions that blitz across the crowd. Hikari pulls him close, snaking them further into the mix. All the faces around them seem especially young, and it hits Takeru that maybe he and Hikari are finally becoming old.

The next thing he knows, Hikari's grinding against him - innocently enough, considering there isn't exactly a lot of room where they are and it's hard to stand without getting bumped around - and his hands are resting low on her waist.

He can't help but touch her a hell of a lot less innocently. Definitely not pretending now. He isn't meant to do that, anyway.

It feels like it's just them, and no one else; he loves moments like this, when he doesn't notice the world around them. He loves her, really. He's surprised that he's having fun at all, considering he can't even get wasted. He's drunk on her.

'We never had a honeymoon, you know.' she says, leaning her head over his shoulder.

'Yeah, I know. So?' he banters, his hand sliding down her side.

' _You owe me._ '

The purr that follows settles it. They're going to need to get home right now.

'Keep talking like that, and we aren't even going to last a whole song.'

She laughs again, though the sound is drowned out by the music which is spiking in volume. He's really not wild enough to enjoy it sober, but Hikari's inhibitions are loose and he's not about to sacrifice the opportunity that comes packaged with that.

After a while, and lots of gyrating and body contact, Hikari finally decides that she's had enough. Despite not really doing much, they're both sweating a little, and Takeru finds the glow of her skin all the more alluring in the dim club. They find Sora and Mimi chatting and laughing, sipping cocktails amongst a table of empty glasses.

'Takeru-tan!  _There_  you are!' cries Mimi, sounding more out of her mind than should have been possible to achieve in the time the two of them were out. He and Hikari share a look, and thankfully she seems to agree that maybe they have overdone it. All of them.

Takeru pulls Mimi off her high stool, and says strictly, 'We're leaving.'

Sora frowns, arguing, 'But we were just getting started, we- oh come on!'

Hikari dismisses her, taking her arm and guiding her behind Takeru, who has Mimi hanging off his waist like a belt. Is it even midnight yet? Takeru isn't sure, but he's pretty sure the girls have only just about managed to qualify this as a ladies'  _night_.

They get a taxi - which Hikari pays for - and make the responsible yet fucking disastrous decision to put the other two up for the night. The taxi driver hadn't exactly given them much time to deliberate, which was a pain, and Takeru hadn't had time to come up with a more agreeable solution. He agreed that it wouldn't be right to let them go home alone - hell, they were behaving like their drinks had been spiked. It'd be better to stick together, Hikari said.

He wakes up the next day, horny and cold, to the sounds of retching. Lovely.

He sits up, rubbing his face with the balls of his thumbs. Blinking awake, he sees Hikari coming over in her fluffy white bathrobe to sit beside him. Planting a sweet and brief kiss on his cheek, she says, 'You're awake. Sorry 'bout last night. I know we were going to-'

'It's fine,' he replies, shrugging and diverting with, 'I just hope they're ok.'

'They will be. It's going to be a long morning.'

'For  _you_  maybe. I'm taking it off. This is  _your_  responsibility, wife.'

Only he could make that title sound insulting. Momentarily stricken by his abandonment of her, she exclaims, 'Takeru! What happened to 'for better or for worse'?'

He raises an eyebrow. 'You do remember we made up our own quickie vows to cut down the time, right? I don't remember swearing to hold Sora's hair back while she pukes all over the bathroom floor-'

'Ugh!' she huffs, incessant, desperate for another answer. Clearly she knows he's right.

He laughs, feeling positively evil, but he doesn't care. He just wants breakfast, and to use the bathroom in peace. Jumping up to snatch a bag, grab some toiletries and pick out some clothes, he says, 'I'm going to head to…'

He deliberates for a second, before snatching up Mimi's keys from the table by the kitchen entrance.

'… _Mimi's_ , to shower and stuff. She's got a penthouse suite, right? Her bathroom must be awesome. I sure as hell am not going to wait for the drink-y twins to finish up in there.'

Hikari wants so desperately to go with him, but she can't leave Mimi and Sora behind. Squirming, she tries weakly, 'B-But - Takeru, please, don't  _leave_  -'

Ladies' night indeed, he thinks, as he walks out the door. Bloody crazy, and totally not worth the aftermath. Going off the rails was definitely not fun at all.


	18. Chapter 18

'What's this?'

Takeru looks up from the grains in the wood of the table top, trying to catch Hikari's eye. Unfortunately for him, the only one looking back at him is Tigger, on the side of his mug. She's already moved on, but replies amiably enough;

'It's tea. Drink it, I made it specially.'

He sighs through his nose, trying not to get too quickly exasperated. Reminding himself that this is his wife who he loves very much, he takes a sip.

'Oh fuck, that's disgusting!' he gripes, pushing it away spilling a little. 'Why is it so… bitter?' he exclaims, sure that he's even burnt his tongue to boot.

Hikari says something under her breath that he misses (he suspects she may have been petulantly mimicking him) but then she says more clearly, 'It's herbal tea.'

'I  _hate_  herbal tea.'

She rolls her eyes, because they both know he'll drink it regardless. A kind of metamorphosis had occurred within him, as if their vowing of their undying love for each other and a signed document that he could hold in his bare hands had finally reinforced that she was not going anywhere. Now, instead of pushing her away, he was letting her be. He was being accommodating, even. And anyway, he's drank it before.

She suggests lightly, 'Put some honey in it. Maybe that'll help, make it a little more, er, tolerable.'

Because things he doesn't like will only ever be tolerable at best.

'Sure, chuck it over, will you?'

When the honey flies at him from her direction, and explodes all over his shirt and his face and his fucking hair - he can't help but think how petty she can be. Selfish, too; she likes being thrilled more than thrilling him.

He minds less and less.

'You bitch! I didn't mean throw it!' He berates, getting up and making a show of wiping the honey all over his tee, which is sticking thickly to his chest. Fuck, it was all over his hands -

'You said chuck it!' She says, being facetiously obtuse. She is blushing though - maybe she was thinking about something else, and let her body get away with her. Sometimes Hikari could be thick - or maybe he just didn't see the full story.

'Think that's funny, huh?'

He walks towards the bedroom, meaning to check the damage in the big mirrored wardrobe doors, but Hikari moves in his way and gets her hands on him.

'Here, I'll wash this-'

'It's- don't worry 'bout it - it's-'

'- so sorry you know, really I-'

'- only my  _favourite_ fucking… shirt…'

His shirt is tugged tight in her fingers, riding up his stomach and clinging to his chest in a sticky mess. Hikari's hands, honey, his moist, wet shirt… it almost feels like nothing between her touch and his skin. And yet, neither of them were moving.

Barely even breathing.

Takeru's lost his voice, amidst all the staring and holding. His hand aches to grab her arm, caress it softly, and then drag her out of his way (as would be his way), but he's stuck. Stuck in his clingy cotton tee, her hands pulling at his shirt-

'Here…' she guides, his body finally responding as he grabs the sides of it and pulls it over his head, her own hands following the hem up to his head.

The shirt goes discarded on the floor. Her hands stay on his shoulders.

He starts, 'Hikari… what-?'

'Shh, don't.' She says, pressing her lips to his neck and leaning into him. Now his arms react, one resting on her waist while the other brushes her hair behind her, safe from the residual honey on his torso.

'Let's just… escape  _us_ , for a second.'

What does that even mean? Takeru isn't totally sure. But whatever she means, she isn't being particularly obtuse about it now. She definitely wants him. He revels in her hot breath as it warms his throat. His head rests on hers, and she sighs so delicately and  _it's just right_. Exactly what he needed all along.

His tea's probably gone cold.

'No arguing. No talk…'

'So stop talking then.' Takeru orders with a derisive snigger, rocking Hikari a little as his hands pull her by the waist, closer to him. He wishes that he could get rid of all the space between them, till it was just them existing as one. That way, he wouldn't have to worry, because she'd always be with him.

She laughs  _with_  him, at herself, and inhales in the scent of him, mixed with sweet honey.

Takeru loves her so much, really, that's all. He'd never admit it, but his heart genuinely aches when she isn't around. Even when he's pissed at her for fucking up sometimes, like he does more often than not, he loves her. She isn't textbook. She isn't simple. She hasn't followed the instructions to being a good human, but she's pretty and personable and pretty amazing anyway - even if she can be petty as fuck when she wants.

They just hug it out - it's what she wants, and it's what he'll do for her. Crazy to think something so simple can fix something so wrecked and messy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Kehlani's Honey


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